


Requiem for Remnant

by Numbnut10



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Continuation AU, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dark, Drama, Eventual Romance, Gen, Humor, In Character, Multiple Story Arcs, Post-Volume 2 (RWBY), Swearing, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:25:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 182,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numbnut10/pseuds/Numbnut10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Grimm invasion has been repelled and the city of Vale now breathes easy. With the apparent mastermind, Roman Torchwick, captured and imprisoned, the danger seems to have passed.</p><p>But little do they know that this was merely the opening move in a much larger war game. Headmaster Ozpin and his Hunters stand in defense of one end of the board, and Cinder Fall with her forces prepare on the other. As dark clouds gather on the horizon, can Ruby Rose be the heroine that Remnant needs her to be? Can a simple soul truly be victorious against the ravenous teeth that howl in the Darkness?</p><p>Or is this Remnant’s requiem, the final dirge to signal the end of days?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cover Art

**Author's Note:**

> Requiem for Remnant takes place directly after RWBY’s Volume 2 ends. RWBY and its characters may belong to Monty Oum, but I will be interpreting his vision differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fiction will be rated T for bad language, fantasy violence, and mild sexual themes.
> 
> Please read and comment.

Source: [Click Here](http://rwby-theater.tumblr.com/Requiem_for_Remnant)

"Oh, poor Headmaster Ozpin. The whole of Remnant has trusted you with their lives. They think that you can keep them safe, but their faith in you is misplaced. You want to save them from what’s coming. But how can you, when you couldn't even save me? You can’t protect them, not a single one. You’ll never find the simple soul you seek. Such a thing doesn't exist, you quixotic fool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promotional art of Requiem for Remnant. Permission to post has been granted by original artist, kumafromtaiwan.


	2. Act 0: Opening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang Xiao Long has an unexpected meeting.

The sky was a canopy of black with millions upon millions of lights glistening across its canvas. The Moon hovered above Beacon Academy like an ever-watchful sentinel, casting its light down upon the school. The three-pronged central spire towered over the campus, its signal light casting back the Darkness and promising safety for all. The main avenue leading up to the prestigious academy was laid with cobblestone; the path lined with lampposts and flagpoles. Students would walk down the large, wide-open road all the way to an enormous memorial statue. The statue depicted a Hunter and a Huntress standing on a cliff above the reaches of a feral Beowolf. Around the humongous testimonial sculpture were tall white weirwood trees with crimson leaves. Past the stone monument was a breathtaking, enormous set of ancient double doors. Beneath those doors was the historic epic road upon which every great Hunter tread. New students would become inspired by walking across the same steps where so many heroic figures walked.

Vale’s Beacon Academy was the place where legends were made.

Underneath the watchful gaze of the Moon, a young woman walked Beacon’s main avenue. She stood before the statues of the Hunters. A gentle breeze rustled through the weirwood branches, casting around leaves as red as roses. The woman’s golden hair swept around her; as long and proud as her name.

Yang Xiao Long glared with amethyst eyes toward the figures etched in stone, but the focus of her burning gaze was the person standing in front of her. Between Yang and the statues was another woman, standing tall with purpose. She wore a short black kimono wrapped by blood red  _obi_  sash. On her shoulders was a pair of equally red  _sode_  spaulders. Tall, thigh-high boots black as night led up beneath a short black skirt. Around the woman’s hips was red plated  _kusazuri_  armor. Hanging off her hip was a large sheath with a single sword handle protruding. The sheath itself was much larger than the hilt. It appeared to be fitted with a rotary multi-chamber barrel, each chamber filled with numerous colors of Dust. Inside that sheath was enough volatile Dust to level a city block. Whatever weapon slept inside the sheath must be more powerful than anything Yang has ever seen.

The woman looked like a killing machine dressed in black and red. Her entire face was hidden behind a white Grimm mask with four slits for eyeholes. The mask was fashioned like an Ancient Nevermore with a sloping crest, lined with crimson. Past the mask was a mane of wild ebony hair, flowing down to her back. Around her neck was a single chain necklace, hanging from it was a single golden ring.

The weight of her heavy-plated shotguns-gauntlets, Ember Cecilia, gave Yang no comfort before the intimidating figure. The sinister mask hid the mysterious woman’s expression. She could be smiling or baring her teeth. There were no tell-tale signs of an active Aura, but Yang didn’t lower her guard. If the woman reached for her weapon, Yang would start her attack immediately. When you don’t know a thing about your enemy, you never want to give her the advantage of first strike.

Suddenly, the grim being lifted her hand up. Amethyst eyes converted to blood red as Yang instinctively activated her Semblance. She swung her right fist back behind her as hard as she could. Ember Cecilia sprang into action, telescoping up both her arms with overlapping golden metal plates. With a snap and a click, the dual shotgun-gauntlets loaded a fire-based Dust bullet into both chambers. Then Yang threw her right fist forward, prepared to launch a fiery assault on the threatening figure.

That was when the woman reached up with her hand and removed her mask. Yang froze in place, her fist held motionless beside her ear. Her lungs caught. Nothing could have prepared Yang for what was behind that fearsome cover.

It was like looking into some opposite-world mirror. The woman had exactly the same face as Yang. Her chin was the same shape. Her nose was in the same place. Her ears were curved just like Yang’s was. And worst of all, her eyes were the exact same shade of red that Yang’s eyes currently possessed. Even her hair, now that the Grimm mask was out of the way, was just the same flame-licked style as Yang.

Petrified in place, Yang could only stare in wonder as the woman clipped her Nevermore mask on her belt. Then the woman looked at Yang square in the face. Red eyes locked with red eyes. Her lips curled up. The woman was smiling with her mouth, but her scarlet orbs held so much sadness. Yang couldn’t tell if the woman was cheerful or heartbroken. The woman was the first to break the silence.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

Unable to say anything else, Yang uttered a blunt “What?”

Smirking, the woman rested her hand on her hip opposite of her weapon. It was a posture that Yang was very familiar with. With effort, Yang managed to step out of her attack stance. She didn’t yet retract Ember Cecilia though. Instead, she crossed her armed gauntlets in front of her bosom. Yang’s heart was pounding in her chest so loudly. She couldn’t tell what she was feeling yet, so she adopted an angry expression. In her mind, she imagined herself looking like a fearless Huntress. She just hoped that she could pull off the same look on the outside.

The woman’s ruby eyes roamed Yang’s body like she was admiring her. Yet that wasn’t quite right. She didn’t seem to be lusting, nor was it admiration. It was something else, like approval? She looked at Yang’s face especially, as if she were making the same comparison that Yang had made just a minute ago. Instead of focusing on the similarities, Yang tried to find differences between them. For starters, the shape of the woman’s eyes was slightly more upturned in the corners. The woman’s forehead also seemed to be narrower compared to Yang. The biggest pair of differences was also Yang’s favorite pair. The woman’s bust size was easily a full letter down, if not two.

 _“This woman looks like me, but she isn’t exactly like me.”_  Her thoughts were a little comforting. Relaxing slightly, Yang felt her Semblance drain away like a dying flame. She blinked and her eyes returned to their natural amethyst color.

Suddenly, the black haired lady’s smile disappeared. She grabbed her mask off her belt and looked like she was going to re-adorn her face. Yang opened her mouth and shouted without thinking.

“Wait!” she cried out. Ember Cecilia collapsed into a compact form as she reached toward the woman. Stepping back, the woman held the mask over the lower half of her face. Her red eyes locked on with Yang’s purple. Her black eyebrows were upturned and tight together. The woman looked at Yang with uncertain eyes, as though she was realizing that she had made an error. Lips hidden behind the mask, the woman murmured in an anxious voice.

“Do…” she stopped herself and breathed heavily.

“Do… you…” Each word sounded like it took enormous effort.

Yang stood in silence, her hand dropped to her side.

“…know who…”

The mask began to drop away, exposing the woman’s lips. She was biting them hard enough to leave white marks. More confused than ever, Yang simply waited and listened. Finally, the struggled sentence was completed with:

“Do you know who I am?” Her voice was so small it could have come from a frightened child.

Suddenly, Yang’s eyes lit up and she beamed in realization. “Of course I know you!” she exclaimed loudly, breaking the tense atmosphere. The woman dropped the mask in surprise, her mouth forming an ‘O’. She stepped over the mask and prepared to take another step when—

Yang cheerfully proclaimed “You’re the lady that saved my life.”

There was a sharp gasp. The woman staggered back. She looked like she had been punched in the face.

Yang couldn’t understand this reaction. “That was you on the train, right? You drove away that ice-cream bitch. Afterwards, you jumped in a portal something. Sorry for not recognizing you right away, my head was kind of groggy back then.”

It was like watching a clam shut its shell. The woman’s transformation was so sudden that Yang almost missed it. Seconds ago, the woman was actually walking toward Yang with her arms rising up as if she were planning on embracing the blonde. Now she stood as still as the statues behind her, with an expression to match.

She replied in a detached tone. “Yes, that was me.” Gone was the strange and frightened child-like demeanor. Though her mask was lying at her feet, Yang felt as though the woman was now wearing another. Just what had Yang seen in her eyes before? Why did it seem so much like longing?

Still rather weirded out by this unknown woman, Yang tried to keep her unease out of her voice. “Well, thanks for that and all Miss… um…” She forced a laugh. It sounded false even to her ears. “I’d like to thank you by name, but I don’t know yours.”

The ham-fisted attempt at prying a name from the woman was met with silence. Reaching her hand behind her head, Yang tried laughing again. For some strange reason, the woman did not laugh along. Instead, the woman reached behind her back with one hand. She produced something from what could only have been a hidden pocket and held it in front of her face. Her red eyes left Yang for what could have been the first time since the conversation started. She stared at the object in her hand intently. Yang could only see that it was circular, silver, and fit easily in the woman’s hand.

Cursing beneath her breath, the woman put the silver discus back behind her. She then knelt down and retrieved her mask from the ground. She hooked it back onto her belt and then finally answered Yang’s hanging question.

“Raven.” She said crisply.

“That name…” Yang began. For an instant, the woman—or Raven now—seemed to be watching Yang with hawk-like eyes. “…really suits you.” The instant passed and Raven only seemed to grow colder. Just what was Raven’s deal? First she says that she wanted to talk, then she acted like a lost child, now she seems like she would rather be anywhere else! Yang had just about enough with Raven’s attitude.

“Okay then  _Raven_ ,” Yang spat the name like a curse “you want to talk? I want to talk too!”

The black-haired doppelganger returned to her previous posture, her hand on her hip. Yang adopted the same posture, thrusting her hip to the side and propping her hand against it. Her Semblance flared up in response to her temper, staining her amethyst eyes bright red once more. Red eyes locked with red. The two women glared at each other with rising intensity.

Yang was the first one to snap. “Why were you on the train in the first place? My team and Professor Oobleck were the only Hunters assigned to that mission. How do I know you aren’t an enemy?” she accused.

Raven retorted hotly. “In case you forgot, I saved your sorry ass from little Miss Neo. You’d be cold meat on a metal slab if it weren’t for me.” She thrust her finger at Yang crossly.

“And I thanked you for that! Now I want to know why you were there in the first place! You ain’t exactly gaining my trust here, sneaking into Beacon and wearing that White Fang mask.” Yang swung her hand in front of her body as if deflecting Raven’s pointed finger from a distance.

Suddenly, Raven burst out into a hearty-yet-still-condescending laugh. “You don’t know anything about me! You don’t even know where you are!”

“Just how crazy are you?” Yang blew up. Her hair flickered like growing flames. “I’m standing in front of Beacon Academy! We’re in Beacon right now!”

“Then how did you get out here?” Raven asked coolly. The corners of her mouth twitched as if she were trying to hold back a smile.

Just about ready to punch the smug expression off Raven’s face, Yang opened her mouth and—

Wait, what?

“Do you remember getting out of bed, walking all the way out to the edge of the campus, and then walking back toward the Academy to meet me here?” Raven pointed at the Academy, which was far behind her. Yang couldn’t remember that sequence of events at all.

“I—I don’t get it…” Yang stammered; her anger suddenly extinguished.

“Not everything is how it appears, little girl.” Raven cooed.

Suddenly, the whole world seemed false. The moon looked flat in the sky. The stars weren’t winking the right way. Even the large memorial statue looked like it was made from cardboard. Yang spun in place, noting that everything from the lampposts to the weirwood trees had taken on a different texture.

“Where in the hell am I?” Yang exploded. Nothing made sense anymore.

“You were actually half-right before.” Raven admitted. “You said we were in Beacon, but that’s only half true.”

Turning to face the dark clad woman, Yang shouted “What do you mean? How can that be half true?”

“As far as I know, you’re still in Beacon. But that’s not where I am.” Raven explained. As she spoke, small wisps of steam left her lips.

Clenched fists shaking at her sides, Yang nearly lost it. “Are you  _trying_  to piss me off? Stop with your vague  _bullshit!_ ”

“You are in Beacon Academy, sleeping in your bed.”

Her mind processed this for a moment; then Yang relaxed her fists and sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m dreaming?”

“Finally, she gets it.” Raven sighed, shaking her head slowly. With every breath, she blew a little steam.

“Huh,” Yang put both hands on her hips and looked around “my dreams are getting too Meta. Why is my dream telling me that I’m dreaming?”

“That’s because I’m not a part of your dream, Yang.” Raven pointed her thumb at herself as she said this. “I’ve entered your dream to talk to you.”

“Hold on!” Yang exclaimed loudly. “You’re a real person? You’re actually the person who I saw on the train?” Raven nodded and her black hair bobbed along. “If you’re not a figment of my dream, then why do you look like me?”

Suddenly, Raven began reaching for her mask once more. She put her hand over the mask. She dropped her chin to her chest and paused in consideration. Then she left the mask on her belt. When she lifted her eyes back to Yang, Raven’s expression was completely unreadable. When she spoke, curls of white steam blew from her soft lips.

“Your appearance in the dream world does not reflect your real physical exterior.”

Yang crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Is that right? So that’s not what you really look like?”

Suddenly a sympathetic expression dawned on Raven’s face. “That’s also why your current form doesn’t match what you look like in the real world.”

Looking down on her body, Yang searched for any discrepancies. Surprised, Yang yelped. “Wow, I guess I didn’t go to sleep in these clothes.”

Her attire was nothing out of the ordinary for Yang, but it certainly wasn’t her sleepwear. Yang was wearing her brown biker jacket over a yellow tube-top. She was dressed in a brown skirt over black short shorts. Hanging over her ass was a white cape adorned with a burning golden heart, her emblem. Her boots reached up to her knees, leaving just her pale thighs exposed.

Yang chuckled in embarrassment. “I guess I should’ve realized this was a dream sooner.” Still, there was something about Raven’s concerned face that gave Yang pause. “What’s wrong, Raven?”

Raven suddenly began to walk toward Yang. There was sorrow in her eyes. As the distance between the two women closed, Yang began to get nervous. Raven reached behind her back again. Yang stepped back instinctively, her gut twisted in anxiety.

Pulling it out from behind her, Raven held a simple hand-mirror up to Yang’s face. She looked like she was prepared to regret herself. Yang reached out and grasped the mirror. She peered into the mirror. Amethyst eyes locked with amethyst.

“I—I don’t see anything wrong.” Yang said after a moment. “Why are you showing me this?”

Finally, Raven intoned soberly “Do you remember what that ice-cream bitch did to you?”

Silence fell between them. Then Yang opened her mouth and moaned in horror. In the mirror, Yang’s reflection changed as her memories resurfaced. Dark purple and red bruises began to spread across Yang’s mug. She could feel more damage manifesting beneath her clothes.

“Oh no…” Yang bemoaned as a glistening black shiner formed around her left eye. That strawberry shortcake bitch had kicked Yang’s face so hard that her nose had felt broken. As if on cue, a stream of ruby red blood began trickling out of Yang’s nostrils. Yang quickly pinched the bridge of her nose to stem the flowing tide.

“Oh shit…” Grimacing, Yang fought against the sudden wave of nausea that washed over her. She didn’t even want to know what the rest of her body looked like. “This is going to hurt when I wake up, isn’t it?”

Raven laid a tender hand on Yang’s head. “Sorry kiddo, but that’s what happens when you get your ass beat. If it’s any consolation, my real face isn’t nearly as pretty as yours.”

“If this is a dream, can I stop this bleeding?” Yang snorted blood up her nostrils. Raven ran her fingers through Yang’s golden locks. Gradually, Yang felt warmth run through the point of contact. It was a strange sensation, foreign yet not unfamiliar. In the mirror, Yang’s reflection began to change again. The shiner faded until it was just pale white skin again. The numerous bruises shrank until they were almost gone. The vivacious scarlet fluid that flowed from Yang’s nose came to a dribbling stop. Eyes wide, Yang blurted out “What are you doing?”

“I’m sharing my Aura with you.” Raven said coldly. “My Aura can heal your body until your own Aura recovers.”

Yang’s mouth gaped open like a fish out of water. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“It is possible, but only under certain conditions.” She sounded tired. White clouds billowed out of Raven’s mouth.

It was then that Yang finally noticed it. Raven was close enough for Yang to see her lips. The black-haired woman’s lips were darkening into blue. On top of Yang’s head, Raven’s hand was ice cold and shaking. Beside her ear, Raven’s teeth began to chatter.

Yang lashed out with both hands and pushed Raven away. As soon as their contact was broken, Raven stumbled backwards as if in slow motion. “Hey!” Yang hollered. “What is sharing your Aura doing to your body?”

For a moment, it looked as though Raven would topple over. Her lids fluttered nearly closed and her eyes rolled back. Sluggishly, Raven righted herself and stood on unsteady feet. Her teeth were chattering so hard that they could chip themselves.

“…C—c –can’t share Aura if—f—f… I’m using it…” she mumbled under her breath. Her whole body quaked as if she were trapped in a blizzard only she could feel. Bewildered, Yang did the only thing that she could think of. She wrapped her arms around Raven’s quivering form. Her skin was ice to the touch.

“Why are you giving me your Aura?”Yang implored. She tightened her clinch around. She didn’t know how to return Raven’s Aura. She could only hope that warmth was somehow transferrable over dreams.

“…D—d –don’t want see y—you hurt…” Little by little, the shaking slowed.

“I don’t get it. Why am I so important to you?” Yang pleaded.

“…B—B—Being stup—pid… You’re a—a—a big—g g—girl now…” Warmth crept back into Raven’s skin.

“Are you still back at Mount Glenn?” Yang inquired.

Without warning, Raven viciously struggled against Yang’s embrace. Eyes wild, the black-haired doppelganger tore away from the blonde-haired Huntress and ran a distance away. Breasts heaving, the scarlet-eyed woman reached behind her back and produced the silver discus again. When she looked at it, she looked like she was ready to faint.

“No mo—more time left.” Raven gasped. “I wasted too much. I have to say it now.”

Before she could say another word, the entire world began to shift. The memorial statue exploded into a million shards of stone. The trees rocked back and forth as though there was a tremendous earthquake. Cobblestones began to erupt out of the pathway around Yang and Raven. Chunks of Remnant began geysered into the air. The moon overhead detonated into so many pieces there wasn’t even a word for the number.

“What’s going on?” Yang screamed. She covered her head as sharp fragments of Beowolf rained down.

“You’re being woken up!” Raven yelled. She dropped to the ground and rolled just as a meteorite impacted the ground.

“Will I see you—“

“Shut up!” Raven barked over the clamor. “You have to listen right now!” Yang stifled another scream and did her damndest to hear Raven’s words over the cacophonous upheaval. “Beacon is not—“

The next word was drowned out as the Moon impacted Beacon Academy. Yang could only watch Raven’s lips move to form the word.

First letter: teeth slightly apart with the tongue behind upper teeth.

Second letter: almost the same as the first, but with her cheeks pulled back and her tongue down.

Third letter: biting her lower lip and speaking from out of the corners of her mouth.

Then the dream world exploded.

 

 

* * *

Amethyst eyes snapped open. Yang sucked in a deep breath and catapulted herself out of her bunk bed. As fast as she could remember it, she worked her mouth the exact same way she had just seen in her dream and exclaimed one word.

“Safe!”


	3. Raven Takes Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behind the mask is a broken bird.

“—Safe!” The hoarse cry echoed off the cavern walls.

Raven Branwen opened her scarlet eyes and saw complete and utter blackness. Flakes of ice fell from her eyelashes. She pushed herself upright off the frigid cave floor. Wisps of steam erupted out of her mouth with every breath. The air tasted bitter like coal. She groped the darkness until she found her Nevermore mask. She did not put it on her face, but merely held it. Its surface was cold to the touch.

The frozen wind howled past the mouth of the cave. It sounded like women screaming. The mouth of the cave had teeth made from ice. This far away from the mouth, there was no wind and no blizzard. At this elevation though, there was no escaping the overwhelming cold. If not for her Aura, Raven would have frozen to death in minutes. Even now, her cheeks were dark and lips were blue.

The tender warmth of Yang Xiao Long’s arms faded. Raven drew her knees up to her chin. She wrapped herself with her long, black hair and tried to hold in the warmness. She failed and the embrace was lost to memory. Raven raised her head and fought back tears. She knew she failed that too when she could feel their scalding heat trickling down her face. The tears fell in the trenches that scarred her once beautiful face.

_“I have failed you so many times, Yang.”_

With bitter cold fingers, Raven grasped the golden band hanging from her necklace. There was nothing she wanted more than to fall into warmer, happier memories. Instead, she fought against sleep’s siren call. If Raven were to fall asleep again here, in this arctic atmosphere, she might never wake again.

_“I have failed you more than I hope you ever know.”_

Pushing herself upon trembling feet, Raven held her raw hands against the cave wall for support. Her skull felt as heavy as lead. Lush, ebony hair tumbled over her shoulders. Then she reached for the sword handle at her side. She wrapped numb fingers around the icy hilt. With effort, she drew forth her sword Yatagarasu. This time, the blade was midnight blue. In its inactive state, the length of the blade classified it as a _Tantō_. As soon as it was freed from its sheath, Masamune, the sleeping sword awoke to its full _Ōdachi_ span.

Flicking her wrist expertly, Raven slashed the great length of Yatagarasu across empty air. The wintery zephyr split apart and a vertical hole opened wide in front of the frigid Huntress. The portal was as blue as Raven’s blade. She returned Yatagarasu to Masamune’s embrace and let them hang together from her hip.

Leaving her tears to freeze on the cave floor, Raven stepped into the portal and left Mount Glenn behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every once in a while, I will post a short chapter. This is not my normal chapter length, I assure you. Short chapters are used to explore lore and expand plot lines.


	4. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY make preparations in the morning.

"Beacon is not—" the words echoed through Yang Xiao Long's head. The last word, the most important word, was lost to the howling apocalypse. The shattered face of the Moon collided with Remnant. The world exploding beneath her feet, Yang could only see Raven's lips moving just before she woke up.

"Safe!" Yang exclaimed as she bolted upright from her bed. For a moment, the blonde youth sat with her elbows on her knees, breathing into her shaking hands. Her golden-yellow locks fell over both her shoulder, disheveled and uncombed. Yang squeezed her magenta eyes shut and tried to blot out the horrific memory. She could still feel the chill in her arms where she had embraced Raven's quaking body. Cold sweat ran down her back, sticking her pajama top to her bare skin. Then she sucked in an unsteady breath and cast her gaze at the rest of the room.

The square dorm room was filled with warm sunlight shining through a large set of double windows. The windows were open, allowing inside a cool fresh breeze. The scent of fresh flowers and tree leaves wafted in, saturating Yang's head with the smells of spring. Somewhere in the distance, songbirds were dancing in the clear blue skies and practicing their beautiful melodies. An unnecessarily pretty butterfly flew through the window and landed on the short bookshelf directly beneath. Some demented asshole had the audacity to play Edvard Grieg's "Peer Gynt" Suite #1, Op. 46 directly outside of Beacon Academy's dormitories.

Yang sincerely wanted to punch whoever was playing that goddamn music.

Four pairs of eyes gawked back at Yang. The largest pair of eyes were as colorless as silver. Ruby Rose warily watched her sister as Yang gave each person in the room a blank stare. The next eyes were robin egg blue. The heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, Weiss Schnee, spared her teammate a brief glance before returning her attention to a wooden box in her hands. The third set of eyes were amber, the pupils were narrow, vertical slits. Blake Belladonna scrutinized Yang's tousled appearance with concern.

The closest pair of eyes was completely unfamiliar to Yang. They were colors of the sunset, violet flecked with gold. They belonged to a mature, dark-skinned woman dressed in a doctor's white lab coat. Her short, cropped hair was violet and her mouth was turned into a frown. The woman appeared to be in her late forties, with crows-feet wrinkles and frown-lines marking her face. The woman was at eye level with Yang, which in itself was unusual because Yang was sitting on the top half of a bunk bed. The mystery was solved when Yang realized the doctor lady was standing on a stepladder. It was then that Yang noticed that there was a medical kit sitting on the bed next to her. It was opened and inside there was rolls of bandages, gauze, and alcohol swabs.

"What's happening?" asked Yang in a low voice. She looked to her half-sister, Ruby for an explanation.

Ruby delivered in a high, anxious voice. "I went to wake you up just a little bit ago. But you were tossing and turning in your sleep so much that I was getting worried. Then I saw the blood on your pillow."

Amethyst eyes blinked hard. Then Yang craned her head back and felt her heart tumble. The entire face surface of her pillow was crusted over with dried, dark red blood. Her favorite corgi pillow was completely ruined. The memory of her fight with little Miss Neo made her stomach churn and her face burn.

Continuing where she left off, Ruby said, "I called this nurse to take a look at you. But she couldn't get close to you because your Semblance kept turning on and off. We were afraid you would burn your bed down." Indeed, the entire bed-sheet that Yang was sitting on was blanketed in scorch marks. The acidic stench of smoke hung in the air. That must have been why someone opened the window too. "Is something the matter, Yang? You haven't had sleeping Semblance accidents since you were real young." The overwhelming concern in Ruby's voice only made Yang feel worse.

Waving her hand in front of her face, Yang tried to laugh it away. "It was just a nightmare. That's all. I'm fine!"

The nurse grasped the waving hand and pressed two knotted fingers against Yang's wrist. "I'll be the judge of that." The swarthy medic interjected saucily. "You can call me Nurse Orchid and you're _my_ patient now."

After taking the young blonde's heart-rate, Nurse Orchid grabbed a pen-light out of her med-kit and pointed it up Yang's nostrils. While lighting up the inside of Yang's skull, Orchid began to voice her thoughts. "I've seen this sort of thing happen before. You were in a big fight yesterday, during the Grimm breach? Did you seek proper medical treatment before going to sleep?"

"Uh, nope." Yang admitted. Orchid grabbed Yang's nose and pinched. A sharp pain shot through her head and she couldn't help but cry out. Ruby cringed at the sound of Yang's torment.

"That was a stupid idea!" Orchid released Yang's nose and pointed her penlight down Yang's open mouth. "What, did you think ' _I feel fine, my Aura will heal my wounds la-de-da'_ and pop off to bed?"

"Uh, I guess you're right?" Yang conceded. Or at least she would have, but her mouth was kept open so it sounded more like "Guh, ah guss ur gait?" Orchid grabbed Yang's tongue and stretched it out of her mouth. At this point, Yang was seriously wondering if Orchid was providing a check up or a dress down.

Incensed now, the school nurse released Yang's tongue. "Greater Hunters than yourself have done the same thing and died as a result. You just got lucky last night!" Orchid whacked the crown of Yang's head with the penlight. "You were feeling fine because your Aura was healing your wounds. But over the course of the night, your Aura burned itself out before it could finish. That's why you started bleeding all over your pillow. If you were lying on your back, you could very well have drowned in your own blood!"

Interrupting, Yang tried to defend herself. "I can't sleep on my back. My boobs fall over my face which is really uncomfortable—"

The penlight came down on Yang's head again. "Don't butt in while I'm talking, blondie! You should always get medical treatment after a mission. You don't know how much damage you've taken until your Aura stops working." Orchid returned the penlight to her medical kit. "Have you heard of cherry tapping? It's when you're fighting strong while your Aura is just on the verge of bottoming out. Then you stub your toe and suddenly _–BAM—_ blood begins to come out of every hole in your body!"

Despite herself, Yang snickered. "I think you're exaggerating a little too much."

Huffing, the elderly medic crossed her arms in front of her chest. "People who rely on their Aura too much are just asking for trouble. I've treated people who were beat almost half to death without their Aura even being touched."

This time, it was Ruby Rose who reacted. "That's possible? I thought that Aura was like a protective shield." The young girl tilted her head to the side in confusion.

Suddenly, Blake spoke up, "I knew a person who had a supersonic scream for his Semblance. Aura doesn't impede sound, so anyone who heard it suffered its full effects." Yang wondered if the person in question was like some sort of bat-faunus.

Then Weiss threw in her two liens. "There's also simple suffocation by strangulation. Even if a person has no damage to their Aura, they still need to breathe. There's also special martial art techniques that are said to be able to bypass a person's protective Aura." Having contributed to the conversation enough, the diminutive heiress returned to her own business.

"Wow!" Ruby exclaimed, her mirrored eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Watching her sister so excited to learn new things almost made Yang's suffering worthwhile. If only the subject wasn't so morbid. Yang shook her golden gowned head ruefully.

"Well," Nurse Orchid began packing the rest of her medical supplies back into her pack "I can't find any more reason for concern. As far as I can tell, your injuries are no longer life-endangering. I don't know when it happened, but your Aura must've recovered enough to heal the rest of your body."

Yang remembered how Raven had gifted her with Aura. While she regretted how much the act had hurt Raven, Yang was thankful to her mysterious benefactor. There was something comforting about the memory of her hand on Yang's crown. It felt reassuring, feeling the strength in those hands. Offering a quick prayer for Raven's safety, Yang threw her singed comforter off her bare legs.

Stepping off the short ladder, Nurse Orchid reached the floor and tucked her medical supplies underneath her arm. When Yang leaped off the bed and landed on her feet, she discovered that Orchid was almost a full head shorter. Suddenly irked, Yang thought _, "Just how many times in a week will I be schooled by short people?"_

Keeping her irritation to herself, Yang extended a hand toward Orchid. The petite nurse gripped Yang's open hand and shook it up and down. "If you need any prescriptions for pain pills, don't hesitate to ask." Orchid advised. Then she turned and marched out the dorm room, closing the door behind her. Yang watched her leave; then looked at her teammates.

Team RWBY's leader, and Yang's half-sister, Ruby Rose was dressed in her normal attire: a Goth-styled black blouse and black combat skirt with red frillings. She was never without her signature scarlet riding cloak, pinned to her blouse with silver crosses. Silver eyes twinkled beneath a head of short black hair, with highlights as red as her name.

A cursory glance at the rest of Team RWBY revealed that everyone was in their normal attire. A black bow sat atop of Blake Belladonna's long, inky hair. Beneath this inconspicuous bow was hidden a pair of real cat ears, the mark of her faunus heritage. She wore an ebony vest with coattails over a white sleeveless undershirt. White tights hugged the curves of her hips. She wore black and purple gradient stockings. Blake walked in black low-heel boots to the open windows. She knelt down and blew a gentle breath on the butterfly warming itself in the sunbeam. After casting the butterfly outside, she sat down where it was resting in the sun and gazed outside with thoughtful, canary-yellow eyes.

Weiss Schnee was clothed in a snowy dress and a powder blue bolero jacket. The back of her fashionable coat was adorned with the snowflake emblem that she shared with the Schnee Dust Company. Weiss sported a light blue combat skirt with fair frills. Her ponytail was off-center, the only outward sign of her rebellion against her father's notorious reputation.

Only Yang was still wearing her pajamas. Suddenly, she felt like a slob with her messy golden hair and loose-hanging clothing. Still, she had to ask, "How come nobody is dressed in their school uniform?"

Ruby let loose a snort and a laugh. "Yang, are you still asleep? Do you think they're going to have classes right after yesterday's attack, silly sis?" She whooped in laughter and hugged her stomach. Yang felt as about as smart as a Neanderthal picking its nose.

"I guess I'm still waking up." Yang scratched the back of her head and laughed.

Basking in the sunbeam, Blake kicked her long legs out the window and sat with her feet dangling outside. She announced, "There will be an awards ceremony today for all the soldiers who fought in the attack yesterday. We were already dressed up for the occasion before we tried to wake you up."

That was when Weiss made her business known. Strutting in high heels, the short successor made her way over to her friends with a mahogany lock-box in her hands. Speaking in a high voice, Weiss addressed her friends. "We're going to be on stage in front of the whole school. The ceremony will be broadcasted into every television in the four kingdoms. That is why I've made it my mission to make sure that everyone is looking their absolute best for the ceremony!"

Weiss rested her butt on her bed and sat the box in her lap. She opened the box and flipped the lid open. Within were various colors of makeup, jewelry, and nail polish. The young girl dipped four pale fingertips into four different shades of tan. She held her colored fingertips up to Yang's face, comparing the colors to the blonde's skin tone. Weiss sniffed in displeasure. "You're going to have to wear some heavy concealer over your bruises."

Remembering how her face looked in her dream, Yang cringed. "How bad is my face?"

Reaching into the makeup box, Weiss produced a small hand-mirror and offered it to Yang. Plucking the mirror out of Weiss's hand, Yang squeezed her amethyst eyes shut and turned the polished silver surface toward herself.

"Your bruises aren't actually that bad." Weiss whispered reassuringly upon seeing her friend's anguish.

Without a doubt, Yang's face was not even comparable to how it appeared in her dream. Rather than a road-map of painful bruises and swelling, her face was now much easier on the eyes. There was still some discoloration around her nose, cheeks, and eye, but otherwise Yang's face was fine. Offering another prayer for Raven's wellbeing, Yang returned the mirror to Weiss.

Yang didn't even want to imagine how her teammates would have reacted if Raven hadn't healed her injuries. If Ruby had seen how much punishment her sister had sustained, then she probably would have fainted. What would have been worse than the pain would have been the gentle sorrow. If the rest of her teammates had seen Yang at her worst, then they might have lost confidence in her. As leader, Ruby would have used her power to protect Yang, rather than the other way around. There was nothing more that she hated than being pitied. Yang couldn't bear the thought of her friends doubting her. Even if she was exhausted, even if her body ached, she would put on airs and say everything was fine.

Ruby crossed her arms in front of her chest and puffed her round cheeks. "I hate make-up. I refuse to wear any of it." Somehow, this reaction surprised nobody at all. It was clear to everyone that Ruby was more interested in fighting and killing the creatures of Grimm more than caring for her appearance. If Ruby were ever to sustain a scarring injury, the young girl would most likely wear the wound with pride. The fact that she hasn't yet been marked by battle was only a testament to her skill with her sniper-scythe.

"Aw, that's okay." Yang wrapped her arms around Ruby's petite body and tried to crush her sister in a mighty embrace. Ignoring her sister's need for oxygen, Yang nuzzled Ruby's puffed up cheeks with her nose. "You don't have to wear make-up. You're a cutie-patootie even without it!"

"…Pweez shtop…" Ruby gasped in tremendous agony. Her silver eyes rolled up into the back of her skull as Death approached the young Huntress. Somehow, Ruby always knew that this would be the way she died.

While Yang was still committing sororicide, Weiss interjected. "I'm afraid that's not an option today, Ruby. You're going to wear make-up whether you like it or not." She reached up and poked Ruby's puffed cheeks, forcing her to release what little air remained.

Finally releasing her sister from her lethal hug, Yang looked at Weiss with annoyance. "Who died and made you leader?" She put her hands on her hips while ignoring her sister's fresh corpse on the ground.

Stepping on top of Ruby's lifeless body for height, the short Huntress reached eye-level with Yang. "It's our solemn duty to look our best. The people of Vale will be looking up to us as heroines. And nobody wants a heroine to look like somebody who just got out of bed." Weiss thrust a finger in Yang's face, sneakily applying a color that perfectly matched Yang skin-tone directly over a small bruise.

"…Get off me…" Ruby wheezed. "…I'm not dead yet…"

Blake watched her friends' antics from her perch in the window. Her citrine eyes held so much sorrow as she spoke up. "The ceremony isn't just giving awards to the people who fought in the battle. It's also a funeral service for those who lost their lives yesterday. We have to give them the respect they deserve."

It was like letting air out of a balloon. Weiss hopped off Ruby's body and helped her back to her feet. Yang turned away and mentally punched herself in the face. Even Ruby looked ashamed at her childish behavior. Blake looked back out the window, gazing at the cloudless blue sky. "I'm sorry for ruining everyone's fun." The cat-faunus whispered.

"No, no, you're right," Ruby quickly pardoned, "I was acting like a kid. I'll wear Weiss's clown make-up."

Purposefully ignoring the "clown" comment, Weiss motioned for Ruby to sit beside her. The team leader reluctantly obeyed the white-clad girl and rested her rear on the bed. Weiss consulted her wooden case of make-up held up a number of different shades of red next to Ruby's face. She smiled, satisfied with a certain selection. Setting aside the color, the snowy Huntress brought out a wide brush and dabbed it into the color. Finally, she tried to apply the blush on Ruby's cheeks. However, the red haired huntress twisted her head from side to side, foiling Weiss's efforts. It was like watching an infant that refused to be spoon-fed.

Grinning from ear to ear, Yang watched Ruby avoiding the brush while trying not to laugh. It wasn't long before Weiss was trying to grab Ruby's nose to hold her still. A high-pitched growl emitted from Ruby's throat. If Weiss thought that applying blush would be hard, then Yang was really looking forward to what was going to happen when she discovered Ruby's legendary aversion to lipstick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slow, non-indicative chapter helps lure readers into a sense of complacency. Let them get to reconnect with their favorite characters. Let the readers feel safe, knowing that their loved ones are just the same as they remember. Nobody has changed since you saw them last. There's nothing to fear now, they are all safe and sound.
> 
> The time for fear comes later.


	5. Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang uncovers an earth-shattering secret.

Ruby Rose walked out of the dorm room, leading her team into the hallway. On her face was a very modest amount of blush, some crimson eyeliner, and absolutely zero lipstick. Yang about laughed up a lung when Ruby tried to bite the waxy stick of paint. After giving up on the younger girl, Weiss had helped Yang apply some skin-colored concealer over her bruises. Then Yang let Weiss cake her face with yellow eyeliner and rose-red lipstick. Blake needed no help applying purple liquid eyeliner and some dark blush under her cheekbones.

"I feel like a clown." Ruby complained. Yang grabbed the top of Ruby's head and tousled her red-tipped hair. Her hands were weighed by Ember Celica once more. Yang was fully dressed in her combat clothes, the same as she had worn in her dream.

"You look so pretty, little sis." Yang complemented. Ruby grumbled underneath her breath and didn't make any attempt to wipe her face.

"Alright, alright, the stupid fake face dust can stay. But we're getting dessert after this ordeal is over." She announced. The only way that Weiss was able to apply the crimson eyeliner was by bargaining with her defiant sufferer. Once the ceremony was over, Weiss was going to treat everyone to a restaurant of Ruby's choice.

Sighing in exhaustion, Weiss could only say, "Whatever you want, just lead the way to the auditorium. Headmaster Ozpin wanted all the teams to gather before the ceremony." Then she fell in line behind the younger girl as Ruby began marching down the hallway. Blake stepped out of the doorway and looked at Yang. Her pointed stare seemed to pierce through the blonde.

"Are you alright, Yang? You seemed a little out of it, earlier." The feline female inquired. Her intuition was really something to behold. Yang shrank away from Blake's burrowing eyes.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Yang lied. Cat-like eyes narrowed severely. Unable to hide the truth from the curious cat, but unwilling to discuss her dream quite yet either, Yang tossed out a lame excuse. "Actually, my injuries are kind of sore. I think I'm going to take up Nurse Orchid's offer on pain pills." It wasn't a total lie; Yang's ribs were feeling tender to the touch.

Judging by her doubtful expression, Blake didn't look like she bought it. But she didn't press the issue. "Hurry over to the nurse's office. I'll tell the girls to not to wait up for you." Then she walked down the hall, her long black hair flowing behind her with every step.

Unfortunately, Yang had now caught herself in a bind. If she didn't get those pain killers, Blake would definitely become suspicious. Sighing in annoyance, the tall blonde walked in the opposite direction that her teammates had taken. As she wandered, her thoughts were occupied by her dream.

"Beacon is not safe." Those were the last words that Raven had screamed last night. Yang was sure of it. There was no doubt that the dream was real, that there had been a meeting last night. It didn't seem impossible; scientists were still discovering new things about the metaphysics surrounding human souls. Yang has heard of more outlandish things happening. But there was something about the events in the sleeping world that gave Yang reason to consider Raven's words of warning.

For starters, Raven had known Yang's name. How did Raven come by that knowledge? There was something very peculiar about Raven's behavior. She acted as though she knew Yang from somewhere. But Yang has never before met anyone that looked quite so similar to herself. Raven did say that appearances in the dream world were misleading. But it felt like there was something more to it than that. Yang's own appearance had matched exactly how she pictured herself. There was more than just Raven's behavior that made Yang apprehensive.

 _Beacon is not safe._ That was a mighty accusation to heave at what was supposed to be the safest place in Vale. What sort of danger could possibly lurk in these pristine halls? This academy was home to thousands of Hunters in training. Fourth year students such as Team CFVY were already famous for their remarkable achievements in the field of battle. This was before they even graduated as fully fledged Hunters. Not only that, but the Vytal Festival had brought countless more students from other combat schools. Who knows how powerful these foreigners could be? On top of that, the Atlesian military was currently occupying the city. The robotic soldiers were tirelessly tracking down every remaining creature of Grimm that might still be running amok the streets of Vale. Aiding them was the Atlesian Air Force, providing the ground units with aerial reconnaissance and airborne sniper support. Finally, at the very top of the totem was Headmaster Ozpin himself. Admittedly, it was difficult to separate fact from fiction when it came to the Headmaster's accomplishments. The man himself was more humble than he had any right to be. But if even a quarter of his supposed feats were true, then Beacon Academy was guarded by the most powerful Hunter in the world. _How could Beacon be unsafe?_ There were so many questions that Yang wanted to ask Raven.

Take for example, what was the deal with Aura sharing? Never before had Yang heard of any such thing happening. It didn't make any sense to her. If it was possible for two people to share their Aura, then why was it not something taught in Beacon Academy? You'd think that healing other people with Aura would be something they taught everyone, right? It sounded like excellent first-aid material. Yang hasn't exactly cracked open a medical book before, but even still. What were the "certain circumstances" that Raven had alluded to? Raven had started sharing her Aura without any special preparation. The required conditions couldn't be _that_ circumstantial, could it? Yang wondered if she would see her mysterious patron again.

Mind full of questions, Yang was surprised when she found herself standing in front of the nurse's office. For a moment, Yang was confused as to why she even made the trip. Then she remembered that she promised Blake to get pain medication. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, Yang thought angrily _, "I don't want them and I don't need them."_ Powering through the pain was Yang's normal _modus operandi_. It might seem overly macho, but she didn't care. Yang's Semblance only got stronger the more damage she suffered. If it meant that nobody else got hurt, Yang would gladly absorb all the blows and bullets.

Still though, a promise is a promise. Relaxing her jaw, Yang unenthusiastically swung her hand toward the doorknob. Before she could grab the protrusion, the door swung open by itself. Standing directly behind the door was the petite medical assistant, Nurse Orchid herself.

"Are you coming in? Or were you just going to stand in front of my door and ground your teeth round?" Lips pursed tightly, the elderly nurse rested her fist on her hip.

Sighing explosively, Yang extended her hand palm up. "Can you just gimme some freaking pain killer?" she asked impatiently.

Nurse Orchid's nostrils flared. "No, I can't just _gimme_ you medication!" she snapped. The bite-sized chocolate medic stepped aside and gestured Yang to enter her office. Groaning as loudly as she could, Yang kicked her legs inside with as much sass as she could muster.

The office was smaller than Yang expected. There were only two beds, a couple of child-sized chairs, and a computer with a holographic display in the corner. There was a wheeled chair next to the computer screen. In another corner was a metal cabinet with a simple combination lock. Inside must be where Nurse Orchid stored her drugs. Ember Celica swung recklessly as the seventeen year old Huntress in training staggered around the office like a drunken gorilla. Yang wanted nothing more than to grab a fist full of bottled prescriptions and take off running. Would Blake question Yang if she had some medications to show her?

"Are you always such a baby at the doctors?" The violet-haired nurse asked incredulously.

" _Yes_ , and that's why you should just give me some stupid pills." Yang was determined to get out of this promise as soon as possible. If she had to act like a baby, then so be it. Yang expected the nurse to give her some pain meds as fast as possible, if only to get the rambunctious blonde out of her violet hair.

What she didn't expect was for Nurse Orchid to haul off and slap Yang directly on her generous butt-cheeks. The young woman nearly hit the ceiling. Yelping, she bolted away and grabbed her ample ass with both hands. Her amethyst eyes were wide with fright as she cowered away from the brown-skinned nurse.

"You spanked me!" Yang cried out as she pressed her back against the wall.

"All babies get treated the same way in _my_ office." Nurse Orchid stated simply. "Now are you going to keep rampaging, or do you need another helping?" She raised her open hand suggestively. Yang immediately sat her tender tush in the nearest child-sized chair, her knees up to her chin. Smiling victoriously, Orchid pulled her wheeled chair in front of Yang's quaking form and sat in it, short legs crossed. "If you behave, I'll give you a lollipop."

" _I have never been so humiliated before in my life."_ Yang thought aghast. _"I could fight that ice-cream bitch a hundred more times and still never step foot in here again."_

Finally getting down to business, the nurse just asked some simple questions like, "How would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?" and, "Do you have any allergies to any medication?" and, "Do you want a lemon or strawberry lollipop?"

Five minutes later, sucking on a lemon-flavored lollipop, Yang held a bottle of 500mg Tylenol in her possession. Her humiliation had subsided somewhat, so Yang was no longer a quivering mess of a woman. Still, she made a solemn vow to never misbehave in the doctor's office again. Yang couldn't even remember the last time she had been seen by a medic. It just wasn't in her personality to let someone else take care of her. That didn't work as an excuse for her behavior though.

"Um… I'm sorry for being a brat." Yang apologized sheepishly. Nurse Orchid only laughed.

"Yang, darling," the elderly woman chuckled, "you are not the first Huntress to be too proud for her own health. I'm actually on loan from Vale's Mercy hospital. I yo-yo between the hospital and Beacon Academy all the time. I get to treat Hunters day in and day out. You wouldn't believe how many Grimm-killing-machines break down and lose their minds when made to sit on a doctor's table." Grinning widely, Nurse Orchid divulged with glee, "I even had one Hunter, _a grown-ass man_ , try to use his Aura to avoid being poked by a needle." The mental image was too much for Yang. In an instant, she was howling in laughter right beside Nurse Orchid. Tears rolled down both their faces. Weiss would be furious to see Yang's makeup ruined thusly.

Alright, so maybe Yang could visit this sassy nurse every once in a while. The laughter tapered off, leaving Yang breathless. Giggling, she threw her arms around the short, old woman. Orchid wiped a hearty tear from her crinkled eye and accepted the hug.

It was then that Yang realized that she had a medical expert right in front of her. The opportunity to answer one of Raven's mysteries was literally squeezed up against her chest. Yang was thunderstruck at her own ineptitude. _"Is stupidity just a phase I'm going through?"_ she thought in amazement.

Releasing Orchid from the warm embrace, Yang gripped her by the shoulders and had to stop herself from shouting. Taking a second to recollect her composure, the excited blonde threw a question at the bewildered nurse.

"Hey quick question, how does Aura sharing work?" Yang almost exploded with anticipation.

Violet eyebrows furrowed for a moment; then Orchid began to speak. The more she lectured Yang on Aura sharing, the more confused the blonde became.

"I hope I don't have to explain how pregnancy works, right? Okay, when a mother has been pregnant with her baby for about thirteen weeks, she is in the second trimester. This is when the baby's nervous system begins to work.  
At week nineteen, mothers-to-be may feel their baby begin to move about now. It's a magical time for every birthing mother. It's also when women get exhausted, constipated, dizzy, hyperventilated, and their mammary glands grow.  
Now, the baby doesn't have its own Aura yet. The mother has to share her Aura during this time, which is why they're so exhausted. The baby's natural Aura has to be jump-started by the mother's Aura. Then the baby begins to create its own Aura while cocooned in their mother's Aura. It's very stressful for the mother, but the good news is that she may feel a sense of spiritual connection with the baby. You may not understand yet, but you will."

"I don't understand." Yang whispered. "Are you sure you're talking about Aura sharing?"

Frowning, Orchid put her hands on her hips. "Did you not hear me just say Aura a bunch of times?"

"I mean—yeah—but what about after the baby's born? I mean, I mean, what about two grown adult— complete strangers— sharing their Aura?" Yang's head suddenly felt like it weighed a metric ton. She could barely keep her skull upright. Unbidden tears trembled in her amethyst eyes. Her chest was tight with a hollow pain and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her skin paled sheet white. Nausea threw the whole world sideways. She gripped her stomach and tried to hold onto her breakfast.

A look of concern crossed Orchid's face. She tried to answer, but what she said only made Yang worse.

"Two complete strangers can't share Aura. Only two people with perfectly compatible Aura can actively trade."

No…

((…She left me with him right after I was born…))

…It couldn't be…

((…No one had seen her since…))

…wasn't true…

((…It was all I thought about…))

…I held her in my arms…

((…To this day, I still want to know what happened…))

 _Raven can't be my_ —

((…why she left me…))

The last sentence did Yang in.

"Such perfect compatibility is only possible between mother and child."

Yang vomited on the office floor.


	6. Penumbra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team RWBY meet up with Team JNPR.

The sound of excited voices echoed down Beacon Academy's halls. Three of the four members of Team RWBY walked side by side and chatted in anticipation. The loudest voice belonged to Ruby Rose, chirping animatedly as she led her team toward Beacon's Amphitheater. Always prim and proper, Weiss Schnee spent half her energy talking with her friends and the other half making sure Ruby didn't smudge her makeup. Even the ever-silent Blake Belladonna couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of her voice as the doors to their destination came in sight.

Barely containing a squeal, the young leader of RWBY sped ahead of her teammates. A trail of red rose petals fluttered to the floor in her wake. As Ruby waited impatiently by the doors, Weiss and Blake shared a giggle at their leader's exuberant antics.

Blake Belladonna stopped and gazed behind her, searching the expanse of hallways for any sign of Yang Xiao Long. The fourth member of their team had not yet caught up. Yang said that she had to grab some medication to treat her painful injuries. Her words sounded less than sincere to Blake, but prying wouldn't accomplish anything. When the blonde Huntress was ready to talk about whatever was bothering her; then she would open up by her own violation.

"You two are so-o-o slow!" Ruby hopped in place, her crimson cloak bouncing with every jump.

The snow white heiress, Weiss Schnee, tried to mask her own thrill with a weary sigh. "Ruby, please tell me that you're going to behave while you're on camera." She grabbed her red-cloaked friend by the shoulders in an effort to keep her in place. Unable to achieve lift-off in her imprisonment, Ruby resorted to merely vibrating with every fiber of her body.

"O-f-c-o-u-r-s-e-I-w-i-l-l!" she chattered as she shook. Then speaking normally, "That's why I have to work out all my excess energy now!"

-Looking behind Weiss, the hyperactive girl waved at her distant teammate. "Stop trailing so far behind, Blake!"

Yellow eyes returned forward. "I was just worried about your sister." Blake explained as she approached her friends.

Ruby rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Yang will be fine. She's the strongest out of us all."

Sniffing in disapproval, Weiss released the galvanized girl from her grasp. She turned away, folding her arms in front of her petite body. "Strongest or not, Yang should have gotten medical treatment before retiring to sleep. We both lost our respective fights on that train; but I was smart enough to get a check-up."

"That's never been Yang's style." Ruby snorted in dismissal. "She's always hated going to the doctors. She would always cause a ruckus while being dragged to the hospital. Whether it was a split lip, or skinned knuckles, my big sis would rather get sick than let someone give her a check-up."

Curious, the cat-faunus questioned, "Did that happen often?"

Laughing loudly, Ruby answered with a proud grin. "You bet it did. Dad taught Yang how to be a boxer, and he wasn't gentle about it. Yang wanted to be stronger than anyone, so she never let him go easy on her. That might have something to do with why Yang's Semblance turned out the way it did." It has been proven that upbringing plays a part in shaping a child's Semblance. Ruby leaned in and whispered, "If Daddy didn't have a combat teaching license, he might've been investigated for child abuse."

The monochrome pair cringed painfully and fidgeted in their shoes. Forcing an incredibly fake giggle, Weiss tried to put a brighter spin on Yang's brutish activities. "She probably just wanted to be strong enough to protect you, Ruby."

Oblivious to her friends' discomfort, Ruby smiled. "Well, duh. There's also that Yang loves to win and hates to lose. The fact that she's just lost a fight has gotta hurt. I'm placing bets now; Yang is going to spend all of her spare time training at the gym to get stronger."

Then red leader turned around and pushed open the double doors leading into the amphitheater. Shrugging her small shoulders, Weiss followed her through the doors. The concern in Blake's eyes didn't diminish. She spared one more glance behind her. Then, she stepped inside Beacon Academy's amphitheater.

The inside of the amphitheater was as vast and spacious as a coliseum. Numerous people's voices echoed off the glass dome overhead. Visible through the glass dome, the sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky. Tall raised bleachers circled the entire perimeter, providing enough room to seat thousands. The entire student population could sit above the voluminous combat arena. There were holographic displays circling the arena, cleared of visual data for now. The raised stage of the auditorium was set up against a tall, ornate backdrop decorated with glowing azure crystal towers.

Team RWBY wasn't the only ones inside the cavernous stadium. There were many groups of people, teams of Hunters from Beacon Academy. Ruby didn't recognize most of them, but she did spot Team JNPR meandering around the edge of the crowd. "Hey, let's go talk to Jaune and his team." Ruby chirped as she walked over. Weiss made a little noise of disapproval upon hearing the young Hunter's name, but approached the friendly team nonetheless with Blake in tow.

Another first-year team, JNPR was lead by the Jaune Arc and comprised of Nora Valkyrie, Pyrrha Nikos, and Lie Ren. Ruby waved her hand in the air as the two teams met. Both leaders were fast friends even before the teams were formed.

"How goes it, Ruby?" Jaune greeted. The blond-haired, blue-eyed youth was wearing his usual white breastplate over a black hoodie with orange sleeves. Twin pallid pauldrons protected his broad shoulders. His sword and shield combo, Crocea Mors, hung from his belt. Surprisingly, he had apparently added some new armor in the form of white shin-guards, strapped around his blue jeans.

Ruby returned the greeting saying, "Pretty good. This crowd is huge. I'm really feeling my social awkwardness right now."

"Why do you think I'm standing away from the crowd?" Smiling like a dork, Jaune admitted, "I've never gotten an award before. I hope my Dad is watching the broadcast." He ran an absentminded finger along the length of Crocea Mors, hanging from his hip.

"Just try not to lose your lunch, vomit boy." Ruby playfully jabbed an elbow into the boy's ribs. She could brag about winning an award before, but for some reason 3rd place in a spelling bee didn't seem like quite the same caliber as what everyone was preparing to be honored.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Weiss stepped up to Jaune. "Please, _don't_ embarrass the rest of us in front of the whole of Remnant." Then she turned to the tall redhead standing beside the rest of his team. "Follow Pyrrha's example, I imagine she's quite experienced at award ceremonies."

The recipient of such glowing complements was Pyrrha Nikos. Tall, slender, and graceful, Pyrrha was deemed to be the strongest out of all the first-year students. Her flowing flame-colored locks were tied into a waist-length ponytail, keeping her hair out of her eyes in combat. Upon her head was a bronze circlet headpiece forged in the shape of flames. Her pale neck was covered by a bronze plated gorget band. She wore an off-the-shoulders leather cuirass over a bronze corset. Around Pyrrha hips were a crimson skirt and ankle-length drapery. Bronze greaves protected her knees and legs. Pyrrha's weapon, a triple-action spear-sword-rifle named Miló, and her hopion shield Akoúo̱, were locked against her back by her magnetic Semblance.

"Well," Pyrrha began, smiling at everyone with pearly white teeth. "It's my belief that _everyone_ here deserves this award ceremony." Her response was quite characteristic of her. She never failed to try and support everyone's sense of accomplishment, while never taking credit for her own achievements. One would think that Pyrrha had an allergy against being complemented.

All of the sudden, a disturbing growl erupted one of the remaining two members of JNPR. Short and feisty and pink were the only three words needed to describe Nora Valkyrie. Brilliant turquoise eyes shined beneath a head of short, orange hair. She wore a white, sleeveless blouse with a heart-shaped keyhole. The pink aspect of Nora's description came from her bubblegum pink skirt and matching -fingerless gloves. On her lower back was a grey bow with trailing ribbons. Around Nora's shoulders and back was her metal weapon harness, where there was attached her grenade-launcher Trans warhammer, Magnhild.

The growl didn't come from the ginger firecracker's mouth, but her stomach. She held a hand over her belly and rubbed circles around it. "I don't feel so good." Nora groaned loudly. She covered her mouth with her other hand, as if fighting the urge to vomit. To the entirety of Team RWBY's surprise, nobody on Team JNPR seemed to be paying her any attention.

"What's the matter with you, Nora?" inquired Ruby.

Another stomach-churning gurgle erupted out of the short Huntress. "I think it was something I ate." Nora fired a furious glare at her female teammate. Surprise upon surprise, Pyrrha only crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked completely unsympathetic to Nora's suffering.

"Don't pay any attention to Nora," Pyrrha spoke sternly, "she's just throwing a tantrum because she didn't get to eat her normal breakfast."

Jaune spared Nora a half-concerned glance; then returned to Pyrrha's side. "Pyrrha wanted to celebrate before the ceremony. So she replaced Ren as the breakfast cook and wiped us up some of her native kingdom's traditional food."

"It's called _avgolemono_ , and it's a time-honored soup that my mother used to make when I was growing up in Mistral." Pyrrha explained.

Nora gripped her stomach with both hands and belched out a fresh groan. "Just hearing that _unpronounceable name_ of that putrid poison is causing me pain!" she wailed. Her butterball face squeezed tightly, contorted by some immense agony beyond human comprehension.

"What's in it?" Blake wondered out loud.

"There's chicken, broth, egg yolks, rice, and a bunch of hand-cut vegetables. You add lemon juice for flavor." Pyrrha listed off the ingredients while ticking off each one with her fingers.

"It sounds delicious!" the cat-faunus exalted.

"Thank you very much, but I think my mother made it better." Pyrrha smiled. Again, it was like she had an automatic reaction to deflect anything resembling praise.

Butting into the conversation, Weiss said, "It sounds like it would be very healthy for you."

"It provides enough nutrition to get you through the day." Pyrrha beamed. As a prodigious athlete, the redheaded Huntress was always mindful of her diet. Even when surrounded by the likes of Jaune and Nora, both notorious snacky eaters, Pyrrha maintained a healthy regime of morning exercise and nutritious food. Of course, not even she can resist Lie Ren's cooking once in a while.

"If it's so healthy," Nora began in a low voice, " _then_ _why am I dying?_ " she bawled at the top of her lungs. The dramatic outburst fell upon deaf ears.

Unable to garner compassion from the women, Nora turned to the only remaining person who might be of help. Having to reach almost above her head, the carroty spitfire grabbed Lie Ren squarely by the shoulders. "Please, Ren, you have to help me?" she whined. She craned her neck back and gazed up at his face with theatrical tears trembling on her lids.

Cool magenta eyes locked with Nora's weepy turquoise orbs. The tall, dark-haired man was a head above the ailing drama queen. Lie Ren was dressed in a forest green _changshan_ robe, with black trimming. The length of his long sleeves ended with pink cuffs. He wore a simple, white baggy kung-fu pants and black _Tai-Chi_ slippers. His hair was tied up into a ponytail and there was one lock of his bangs was dyed violet.

A remorseful expression fell upon the quiet Hunter's face. Nora released his shoulders and grabbed his arm. She pulled the cuff of his sleeve down and tilted her head sideways. Peering into Ren's sleeves, Nora cried, "You've gotta have a snack or something stuffed in these things! There's room enough in here." Instead of food, Nora found herself looking down the barrel of Lie Ren's automatic pistols, Stormflower.

"I apologize; Nora," Ren spoke softly, "but I didn't pack my sleeves with pancakes today."

"How could you betray me like this, Ren?" Sinking until her knees hit the floor, Nora's weakening hands dragged down the front of Ren's robes. Gasping, she whispered, "I—I trusted you." Her head sank lower and lower as she fell into a heap of crumbled Nora. Her fingers twitched once.

Gazing down at the prone body of the melodramatic Huntress, Ruby quipped, "Looks like you've got a vacancy in your team, Jaune."

"I'll post wanted ads tomorrow."

"…y—you m—monsters…" came a low voice from the floor.

Finally taking pity upon the fading firecracker, Ruby reached behind her back and retrieved a package of cookies she had bought from a vending machine. She unwrapped the crinkled package, knelt down before Nora's open mouth, and deposited a chocolate chip cookie into the wide hole.

The effect was immediate and energetic. Leaping into the air, Nora chomped down upon the dessert and licked her lips. She landed on her feet and Ruby handed the whole package to the revived ginger. Tears in her eyes, Nora wrapped her arms around Ruby's petite body and squeezed her hard enough to rival Yang's hugs. Great wet orbs rolled over Nora's rosy cheeks. "Thank you so much, Ruby! You're a true friend!" she sniffled whilst slowly murdering her savior.

Desperate for air, Ruby slapped Nora's arms. The emotional Huntress seemed to take this as an invitation for even more powerful hugs. Alas, the world's most dangerous fifteen years old was also the world's most huggable fifteen years old. _"At least death by Grimm would have been fast."_ the thought running through Ruby's oxygen deprived brain. Then Nora released the dwindling life from her mighty embrace and popped another cookie into her mouth.

Feeling slowly returned to Ruby's biceps. A smile pulled at her lips as Ruby watched Nora wolf down the cookies. "You're welcome; I just wish I had pancakes for you."

A short laugh erupted out of Nora. "Cookies are pretty much just small and crunchy pancakes made with brown sugar." Then she gasped and grasped Ruby's small hands. Staring intently into silver eyes, Nora declared, "You _need_ to try Ren's chocolate chip pancakes! They will blow your taste buds right off your tongue!"

The two of them squealed in anticipation. Both short sugar-addicts turned and stared at Lie Ren simultaneously. Silver and Turquoise teamed up against Magenta. Magenta averted, beads of sweat running down the back of his neck. Turning to his male comrade, Magenta sought sanctuary with Blue. Blue looked eagerly at Magenta. There was no escape.

Pyrrha slowly shook her bronze crowned head back and forth. Her crimson ponytail swung like a pendulum. "It won't hurt you to eat healthy, Nora. You're not going to be young forever."

"Yeah, yeah," Nora said dismissively, "Ruby, where's your big sis?"

Ruby stood on her tippy toes and scanned the crowd. The blonde bombshell was still nowhere in sight. "I guess Yang hasn't caught up yet." Ruby tried to keep the worry out of her words, but it still crept into her voice.

"Did something happen to her?" Jaune asked worriedly.

Answering the question was Blake. "Yang was defeated in combat by a tiny girl named Neo. She took more damage than her Aura could heal. She's gone to the school nurse for medication to ease her pain."

Hand over her mouth, Pyrrha implored, "Is she alright? I hope she wasn't too badly hurt." Yang was the strongest fighter on Team RWBY whereas Pyrrha was the strongest among Team JNPR. As the strongest of their respective teams, both women had a reputation to uphold. In the back of her mind, Pyrrha was secretly looking forward to the day when she might have a combat match with Yang. There was no doubt that the feeling was mutual.

"Her pride took the worst pounding." Ruby laughed weakly. Then she became straight up somber when she addressed her friends. "Whenever Yang loses a fight, she gets very short-tempered. So please, don't tell her you're sorry. Don't say anything about losing the fight. And don't say the name 'Neo' to her face."

It was then that Blake saw a familiar ray of sunshine hair in the crowd. "Speak of the dragon, and she appears." She stretched her hand far above her head and waved at her teammate. Yang turned her head to look at her, and then started walking in that direction. Her boots dragged along the floor like they were filled with lead.

Before anyone could stop her, Nora Valkyrie sprinted up to the meandering blonde and put a caring hand on Yang's shoulder. She gazed up at the tall Huntress with tender turquoise eyes. Her words were filled with genuine sadness. "I'm sorry you lost your fight with Neo."

Instantaneously, six different hands slapped over Nora's big mouth. Everyone turned to watch Yang's reaction. Ruby squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, bracing herself for the inevitable angry outburst.

"It doesn't matter." Yang muttered. Then she strode past her friends, lilac eyes glued to the floor.

One silver eye popped open and watched Yang pass. Jaune opened both of his baby blue eyes and exhaled his held breath. "I was expecting an explosion, not an implosion." Then the leader of JNPR grabbed Nora by the scruff of her neck. Holding her like a misbehaving kitten, Jaune hissed, "Why did you do that, Nora? Now she feels worse!"

"Sorry!" Nora mewled feebly, "I panicked! I didn't know what to say. So I said everything I was told not to say!"

"Well, tell her you're sorry." Jaune ordered.

Nora countered with, "Very recent experience has taught me that _I'm terrible at apologizing!_ "

Pyrrha gazed at Yang's back as the teenage Huntress wandered further away. "I had no idea that Yang was taking her loss this harshly. This is worse than I could have imagined." Looking at Ruby now, Pyrrha asked, "How long does this usually last?"

"This?" Ruby gawked at her sister, mouth agape. "This has never happened. Yang doesn't get like this. She usually just blows up and works off her stress at the gym."

Weiss let her misty blue eyes linger on the withdrawing blonde. "Yang wasn't acting like this even earlier this morning. She was a little distracted, but otherwise completely normal. I wonder how strong the medication was." Powerful pain medication was known to make people act like they were in a daze.

Blake chased after Yang's retreating form, shoving her way through the crowd. She ran around Yang and stood in front of her, halting the wandering blonde's forward progress. Up close, Blake could see Yang's eyes. There was something wrong with her amethyst eyes that chilled Blake's bones. There was no light in her eyes, none of the wildfire that defined Yang's personality.

It was like she was dead.

Fighting the urge to embrace the bewildering beauty, Blake settled for grasping her shoulders. "Yang, what's wrong?" she asked the unnaturally quiet woman. Yang looked at Blake as if seeing her for the first time. When she failed to answer, Blake felt a pit growing in her stomach. "Did you go to the school nurse, and did she give you any strange medication?" Blake swore to report Nurse Orchid to Headmaster Ozpin if the nurse had given the fiery blonde any overpowered pain pills.

"I didn't get anything." Yang deadpanned.

Bisque slitted eyes wide open, Blake felt that sink in. "You said you were in pain. Why didn't you get any medication?"

"Forgot 'em."

Catching up to the two of them, Ruby threw her arms around Yang's hips. "What're you doing, big sis? You're supposed to stand by us, not run past us." She tried to sound angry, but the edge of her voice was blunted by worry. Weiss was not far behind, concern etched across her pale face.

"Sorry." Some focus returned to Yang's eyes after prolonged contact with Ruby. She grabbed Ruby's arms and pried them away from her waist. She turned around and looked down at her sister. Yang quickly stepped behind her sister. Then she picked up Ruby from behind and hid her face in her sister's cloak. Ruby expected a crushing hug, but the embrace was soft. The embrace felt fragile.

Yang was falling apart, to pieces, to ashes. She couldn't stop thinking about Raven, _about her mother_. She felt like she was trapped in a loop. She kept repeating the same reasoning, over and over again. Every thought was more poisonous than the last.

" _Raven didn't tell me her last name."_

" _I know that Qrow Branwen is my biological uncle."_

" _Her last name is Branwen, and she didn't tell me."_

" _I would have recognized her last name and made the connection."_

" _Raven doesn't want me to know that I'm her daughter because…"_

" _Raven doesn't want me."_

" _My own mother doesn't want me."_

Yang couldn't think of anything else. She couldn't break free from her own mind. It just kept on repeating, _ad nauseam_. She pressed her face into the back of Ruby's red riding hood. She held her breath tight in her chest. She was trying to suppress her sobs. She was trying to dry her eyes before anyone could see her tears.

" _Raven doesn't want me to know that I'm her daughter because…"_

She wanted out of this circular train of venomous thoughts.

" _Raven doesn't want me."_

Yang never felt so weak before in her life.

" _My own mother doesn't want me."_

She wanted to bury herself in the soft cloak. With her eyes closed, she could pretend it was white. It's been years since Yang missed Summer Rose this hard.

" _Raven didn't tell me her last name."_

Yang wanted Summer Rose back.

Ruby and her sister stayed like that. The moment dragged on. Team JNPR kept a respectful distance. The red-clad leader didn't know what to do with her teammate. She had no idea why her sister was holding her from behind, hiding her face from sight. What she did know was that Yang and Ruby were attracting a lot of _attention_ from the other crowd dwellers. Ruby's face became as red as her cloak. She was beginning to resemble a Goth strawberry.

Patting Ember Celica gently, Ruby tried to get Yang to release her. First she laughed uncertainly, and then Ruby whispered, "Please put me down, Yang. My social anxiety is acting up." For a second, Yang didn't react. She started to lower Ruby back onto her feet. Her toes touched the ground briefly. Then Yang tossed Ruby up _even higher_ and held her little sister above her head by the ankles. The petite Huntress towered over everyone.

"Hey, everyone," Yang called out with a delicious laugh, "take a look at my little sister! We're Team RWBY, the ones that caught Roman Torchwick! She's our leader! Ruby's the heroine of Vale!"

A roar of laughter and cheers erupted from the crowd. The rambunctious clamor echoed off the amphitheater's glass dome ceiling. Waving her arms to keep her balance, Ruby practically screamed, "No, Yang, no, that's the _exact_ opposite of what I said!" Her red face almost glowed like a stoplight. Yang paraded Ruby around like a statue on a pole. They were in the very middle of the huge crowd, surrounded on all sides by laughter and clapping.

"Yang, put me down this instant! That's an order!" Ruby whined anxiously.

"C'mon Ruby, this is a time to celebrate! You're the bee's knees!" Yang squeezed Ruby's boots and spun around in circles. Ruby's crimson riding cloak unfurled and flapped like a flag. The two sisters both shrieked, but for different reasons.

"I dunno what's gonna make me vomit first. The spinning or the _mental breakdown_ I'm suffering!" The heroine of Vale wailed at the top of her lungs.

Weiss and Blake crowded around Yang and Ruby. They made no effort to help either one. Team JNPR surrounded the foursome and joined in the fun. Jaune was glad that the attention wasn't on him. Pyrrha had the same sentiment. Nora wanted to stand on top of Ruby's shoulders. Ren was holding Nora back by the ribbons on her skirt.

"Ru—by! Ru—by! Ru—by!" Yang hollered, punching the air with one hand. The crowd joined in, fists raised to the glass sky. They could have been saying "Ruby" or "RWBY", nobody was sure. Ruby alternated from flailing her arms to trying to hide her flushed face with her hands.

As long as Ruby was the center of attention, nobody would see Yang's eyes. They wouldn't see the red lining the amethyst. So Yang hoisted Ruby higher and higher, the silver-eyed Huntress shone like a lighthouse. It was always darkest underneath the lighthouse. Because, so long as Yang laughed and laughed, nobody could see her pain. Even if she was hurting, even if her heart ached, she would put on airs and act like everything was fine.

Yang could always play off her tears as ones of happiness.


	7. Commemoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The award ceremony is held at Beacon Academy. Sinister shadows begin to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in commemoration of Monty Oum's passing. It was originally posted on February 2nd, in Tumblr.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending this ceremony. Today, we honor the brave heroes and heroines of our fair city of Vale."

The voice echoed throughout the vast amphitheater. The speaker was the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, Professor Ozpin. He was a tall, middle-aged man with tousled mousy hair and sharp brown eyes. Beneath his eyes were shaded spectacles and a mirthless smile. Around his neck was a dark green scarf. He wore an open black suit over a gold-buttoned grey vest, with a green undershirt. Matching black slacks reached down to glossy ebony Oxford shoes. A cross-shaped crest adorned his scarf.

The Headmaster stood before a microphone level to his mouth. His willowy fingers clutched the polished silver head of his cane. Leaning on the long, platinum walking stick for support, Ozpin addressed the enormous captive audience in front of him. He looked upon his student body from the raised stage he shared with the heroes he mentioned. Behind him were a number of Hunter teams, waiting to be awarded with golden medals. Beside him was a long table, draped in white. Above his head, large holographic screens displayed the speech in progress. Every word Ozpin spoke, every move he made was being broadcasted into the family rooms across the Kingdom of Vale. He reached up with a slender hand and adjusted his spectacles.

"We stand together in the wake of a terrible assault upon our city. These brave men and women answered the call of duty and fought against the creatures of Grimm that invaded our homes."

The city of Vale was still being reconstructed. The relief effort was still rebuilding businesses and houses. The actual breach happened in the city square, during peak hours. Thousands of Grimm erupted out of the hole and swept across the city like a tidal wave of teeth and claws and burning eyes. Fortunately, the hole was closed within twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of intense combat, lead by Hunters and assisted by the Atlesian military forces.

"These heroes and heroines are the reason we still have a city. Men and women, boys and girls…"

Ozpin almost seemed to glare at the cameras.

"…humans and faunus alike…"

A disquiet murmur swept through the crowd. Anyone who knew the smallest thing about Professor Ozpin knew about his tendency to shoehorn the minority population into every speech he made. The man's support for the faunus was so great that he even allowed faunus students to be on the same team as humans. Political activists and news media alike labeled him as an animal lover. Cartoonists drew caricatures of Ozpin feeding faunus from a park bench like a doddering old man. Either the Headmaster didn't know that he was a laughing stock outside of Beacon, or he simply didn't care.

"…all battled courageously, side-by-side, until the threat had passed."

His words of praise echoed off the glass dome ceiling above the amphitheater. More often than not, his pointed commendation of the faunus would fall upon deaf ears. But even if he could only change one person's mind, then Ozpin would never stop trying.

"And so, we give our thanks to them. We will adorn them with medals of honor now. Then we will honor those we lost in the tragedy, while remembering that it could have been so much worse."

With that, the speech ended on a somber tone. Headmaster Ozpin stepped away from the microphone and approached the cloth covered table. He gripped the white cloth and drew it off with a dramatic flourish. Rows of golden medals glistened in direct sunlight. Each one was engraved with the twin crossed hatchets and olive branches that made up the Kingdom of Vale's crest.

"The first team of Hunters to be honored was also the first team on the scene. Would Team RWBY please step forward?"

Four lovely ladies stepped from the background and approached the table. Beacon's Headmaster saluted each of them, and they returned the salute. The holographic projections above the stage changed and displayed each of the four girls.

"Team RWBY is lead by Ruby Rose, Beacon Academy's youngest Huntress-in-training. She is followed by her older sister Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee, and Blake Belladonna."

All four girls had their faces displayed in turn. Ruby smiled broadly at the camera. Weiss showed a controlled smirk. Blake gave the camera a curt nod. Yang blew a kiss straight at the whole city.

"It was Team RWBY that held the line completely alone against the creatures of Grimm. They were the ones who aided the evacuation of so many of our city's civilians."

The display changed and street camera views of their battle were broadcast throughout Vale. There was Weiss Schnee, creating a gigantic sword out of ice Dust and swinging it through a hoard of Grimm. Blake Belladonna was shown briefly, flickering in and out of the camera's view as she cleaved Beowolf after Beowolf apart. Yang was shown throwing a car at an Ursa, her brilliant sunny hair ablaze with her Semblance. For Ruby's part, there was very little to show besides Grimm being sliced to pieces by a flock of red rose petals. The cameras had a limited frame-per-second capture rate, and the speedy youth moved too fast to be caught on film properly.

"And they were the heroines that apprehended the perpetrator of the entire assault, Roman Torchwick."

Finally, the notorious criminal was shown being manhandled by Atlesian Knights. From the crowd in front of the stage, a chorus of boos and hisses erupted as soon as the ginger bowler hat wearing mastermind was displayed. On the screens, Team RWBY flanked the robotic soldiers and oversaw the carrot-topped monster being taken into custody.

"To Ruby Rose and her team, we bestow these medals in recognition of their distinguished service."

Picking up a medal by the ribbon, Ozpin turned to the leader first and foremost. Then he slipped the ribbon over Ruby Rose's black-cherry hair and let the weight of the medal drop onto her chest. Her cherub face was aglow with pride. She bounced on her heels once, then settled.

The crowd began to chant her name. "Ru—by! Ru—by! Ru—by!" They could have been saying "RWBY", but nobody was sure. The named girl's ears burned red as her cloak. She looked like she was waiting for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

Next was the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company. Weiss Schnee clasped her hands in front of her skirt and graciously accepted the medal. She bowed her snow-capped head and allowed Ozpin to place the medal's ribbon around her neck. It was quite unusual for someone of her stature to become a Huntress. It was mind boggling to most people why Weiss chose to risk her life fighting creatures of Grimm; when she could have had an easy life as a rich socialite. As heiress to the largest Dust mining company, Weiss had no obligation to hunt monsters. But there she was on the holographic screens, crafting sharp swords and freezing spears out of ice Dust and slaying hoards of Grimm. The medal settled over her white blouse and the young woman smiled courteously at the camera.

Then Blake Belladonna was granted her medal. Before presenting the medal, the Headmaster fixated a meaningful stare at the bow upon her head. She gave him an imperceptible shake of the head. Ozpin's shoulders sank slightly, and then he placed the medal around Blake's neck.

Yang's medal proved to be somewhat troublesome. For starters, the blonde's hair was so large that Ozpin clearly struggled with fitting the ribbon around it. Next, the woman refused to stop waving and making kissy motions at the cameras. When the medal was finally resting upon her generous bosom, she reached behind her head and swept her hair out from underneath the ribbon. The golden strands caught the sunlight shining through the glass dome ceiling and formed a blazing halo around Yang's beautiful face. She gave one last kiss at the cameras, both hands on her lips, and then followed her team back to the sidelines. Ozpin watched her walk away with a strangely sympathetic expression.

"Next up, would Team JNPR approach the table?"

* * *

High above Beacon Academy's three-spire central tower, the Atlesian flagship hovered. It was flanked on every side by a fleet of airships and gunships. It sailed on anti-gravity projections underneath its gigantic mechanical wings. From the command center, you could see the sun beginning to set over Vale's mountains.

The commanding officer of the flagship was one General James Ironwood. He stood tall and with broad shoulders. His charcoal black hair was graying and worry lines were forming on his stone chiseled face. Above his right eyebrow, a metal plate was surgically infused to his skull. General Ironwood wore a white military suit, his coat adorned with service bars. His hands were clasped behind his back, his left hand bare and his right hand gloved. Steel blue eyes watched the ceremony from a large holographic display. The entire command center was watching the same broadcast.

There was a special guest aboard the command center. He was watching the display; jet black eyeliner underneath his jade eyes. His right eye was covered with long orange bangs. He was strapped to a gurney, hands and feet bound to the table. The gurney was flanked by two Atlesian Knights, armed with rifles. There was so much constraint binding this man that you could scarcely see his body. The only thing that wasn't strapped was his head. The General was tempted to put a gag in the man's venomous mouth, but let him speak.

"Look at all those people, booing when they heard my name. You'd think I did something wrong."

Roman Torchwick laughed; a high pitched giggle that made Ironwood's skin crawl. Bound and trapped as he was; the ginger criminal was still a monster responsible for so many dead. Dozens of civilians lost their lives yesterday, and this wasn't even anywhere close to the body count that Roman has racked up in his criminal career.

Turning away from the display, the general of the Atlesian military addressed his captive prisoner. "The council of Vale has passed judgment on you, Roman." Ironwood thundered. "You have been sentenced to death."

The cachinnating immediately ceased. Myrtle green eyes widened and Roman's mouth dropped open. He sucked in a shaky breath and didn't exhale.

"You will be transported to Black Citadel Detention Center, a high security facility on the outskirts of Vale, to wait out your sentence. Now, death is no less than you deserve," the General laid down the proposition, "but I can lower your sentence if you agree to divulge everything about your employer."

Despite his taking credit for the mass outbreak of Grimm, General Ironwood didn't believe that Roman Torchwick thought up this catastrophe. That he was working with the White Fang led Ironwood to believe that someone else was mastermind. Roman Torchwick was famously, or rather infamously, an anti-faunus speciesist that only worked with humans. The White Fang was a faunus terrorist organization that only recruited other faunus. The two of them working together was like matter and anti-matter coexisting. Someone had to be behind this unholy matrimony. Someone had to be powerful enough to keep them from turning on each other.

All of the sudden Roman shouted, "Bingo!"

This was not the reaction that Ironwood was expecting.

Wearing a shit eating grin, Roman laughed and hollered, "Where's my Bingo card?"

Frowning, Ironwood asked, "What are you going on about?"

"I've finally gotten a death sentence in all four kingdoms. That's the last thing I needed for this game of Evil Bingo I've been playing with the guys."

The general's frown deepened. Roman elaborated.

"See, this criminal named Cyan Moore has been hosting this game of Evil Bingo for the past year. You probably know him as C' No Moore because of his habit of _gouging_ the eyes out of his enemy's skulls. Anyways, if you get five things in a row you yell 'Bingo' and get to turn in the card for a prize."

The general's frown deepened even more. Roman just kept on talking.

"I hope I get a toaster."

The lines around Ironwood's mouth were cutting into his face.

"It's an evil toaster."

There were no words to describe.

"It burns all the bread."

"Enough!" Ironwood roared. The word reverberated around the command center. "Are you listening? I have just told you that you've been judged and you're going to be executed. Now I'm giving you a chance to escape that fate, and you ramble on about _evil bingo?"_

Cackling like a madman, Roman responded, "Have _you_ been listening? I've got no less than _four death sentences._ That's one for each kingdom, including your kingdom of Mantle." The bound criminal chuckled darkly. "Besides, _existing_ out the rest of my days in a jail cell sounds _lame_. I've got no intention of living to see an old age. Judge all you want. We're all going to die, I intend to deserve it."

Ironwood gritted his teeth. He addressed the Knights standing beside the gurney. "Take this idiot back to his cell in the brig. Prepare him for transport. And put a muzzle over his mouth."

The Knights saluted the general and grabbed the stretcher. While being wheeled away, Roman called back, "You're going to have to draw and quarter me! That way, every kingdom gets a piece of Roman Torchwick!"

His jovial laughter could be heard until the command center's blast doors sealed shut. General Ironwood released his teeth and relaxed his grip. Then he turned to the display, returning to his former posture. The award ceremony had ended. Now the funeral was about to begin.

* * *

Six caskets were rolled out onto Beacon Academy's stage. Each one was draped in Vale's national flag. The entire amphitheater fell silent as each one stopped in a row. Headmaster Ozpin stepped aside and let the caskets take the stage. Above the heads of the crowd, the holographic displays showed six different faces. Ozpin spoke in the microphone.

"Let us have a moment of silence."

All heads bowed in silent remembrance. The Hunters in the back of the stage placed their hands over their hearts. The moment passed and Ozpin returned to the center of the stage.

"These six brave souls were all protectors. They were police, not Hunters, but they exemplified the traits that Hunters are taught. Each of them gave their very lives to save as many civilians as they could from the creatures of Grimm. They did so, even when they were armed only with pistols and nightsticks."

The most powerful Hunter in the world turned and faced the funeral boxes behind him. He placed a tender hand on one and paused.

"To face such overwhelming odds, to fight in spite of the danger, these men and women are the most brilliant souls I ever wished I knew. When the stakes were raised, they went above and beyond their duty to protect. They sacrificed themselves so that others might live. There is no greater love than that."

Ozpin bowed his head again, his eyes lost behind his unruly mop of grey hair.

"Let us remember them as heroes. They will be posthumously awarded with the Cross of Vale, in honor of their sacrifice. And let us spend the effort to donate funds to their families, so that they might have some relief in their worst hours."

His hand left the casket, and then rose up to his forehead in a formal salute. The awarded Hunters joined Ozpin in his salute toward the caskets.

* * *

"Gawd, could that speech be any _more_ cheesy?" Emerald Sustrai groaned. She turned her head and looked at her couch-mate.

Mercury Black raised a hand and said, "I would rate that a three drink speech."

"What, are you saying that you'd raise a toast for Ozpin?"

"No, I'm saying that I would need three drinks before I could watch that again."

Both of them burst out into laughter and returned their attention to the holographic television projection. Emerald played with the long locks her mint-green hair. Her eyes were red like cherries and her skin was as brown as chocolate. The Haven school uniform for girls was far too conservative for her tastes. She felt like her movements were being constricted by the tight-fit blouse. Not to mention fighting in a skirt was just asking for indecent accidents.

Mercury leaned back and put his boots on a short coffee table in front of him. He was perfectly comfortable in the black and grey uniform, if only because he knew it made him look handsome. The young man combed his fingers through his silver hair, smiling at the funeral in progress.

Simply watching television wasn't enough to occupy Emerald's time. She needed to keep her hands in motion. Emerald placed her sickle-revolvers; named Marjanah and Zumurrud, on the coffee table and produced a weapon cleaning kit. She picked up Marjanah and began to brush the revolver's cylinder chambers. Even still, there was plenty of room on the couch, room enough for one more person.

Emerald swung her arm over the back of the couch and called out behind her.

"Cinder, you're missing the ceremony!"

There was no answer. There was, however, the sound of the dorm room's door being slammed closed. Mystified, the two underlings looked at each other. Then both of their scrolls beeped simultaneously. Mercury fished his scroll out of his pants pocket.

"Huh," the silver-haired butcher stared at a message on his scroll, "I just got a message from Cinder saying that everyone must gather at the warehouse."

Crimson eyes scanned her scroll. Then Emerald said, "I got the same message. There's going to be a big meeting very soon. It seems as though Roman Torchwick has just been sentenced to death." Her words grew quiet.

"Why didn't Cinder just tell us before she left? We were right here." Mercury stabbed his fingers at the couch. His female cohort could only shrug.

"We better leave as soon as possible." Emerald stood up from the couch and turned the television display off. Then she picked up Marjanah and Zumurrud with both hands. The warehouse was on the far side of the entire city. Walking there in Haven's school uniform would be far too much of a hassle in Emerald's opinion. She looked at Mercury, "I'm going to get changed into something more comfortable."

A coy smirk landed on Mercury's face. "Oh, how long have I been waiting to hear you say those words."

Emerald scowled and flipped Mercury the birdie.


	8. Chains of Command

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen hosts a meeting in the darkness.

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Across the sky, the shattered face of Luna rose into view. The two celestial bodies gazed at each other from across Remnant. To the west, the sky was darkening purple like a bruise. To the east, the heavens were being drained of color. Dark indigo hues spilled across the firmament like paint from an overturned bucket. Ominous storm clouds gathered in the distance, promising rain for the night. What perfect weather for a funeral.

The city of Vale was ghostly quiet. The streets were almost bare of pedestrians. Cars driving by were few and far in between. It was as though the whole city was having a moment of silence. The only disturbance was the fleet of Atlesian gunships flying overhead, seeking out any last threat to the city.

Downtown Vale was no less silent. Along the western coast of Vale, the urban environment gave way to the suburban settlements. The buildings began to deteriorate and the road conditions start to worsen. Cracked sidewalks, stores with bars over their windows, and dark alleyways could be found the further down you strolled. Then you come across the city slums, home to the majority of the faunus population. There were buildings with broken or boarded up windows. Many of the construction sites here were abandoned, leaving steel skeletal structures. The streets were broken; potholes deep enough to hide a body. It can be quite dangerous for a lone human in these poverty stricken neighborhoods. You can never tell if the first faunus you run into will be friendly, or if they might be a member of the notorious White Fang.

The city of Vale's seaside shores were lined with warehouse harbors. The criminal element made their home in the docks. The police force rarely patrolled the slums, making it the safest place to hide. Even the Atlesian air fleet neglected to fly over the public squalor.

Even the docks were nearly empty, aside from two figures. Mercury Black strutted down the crumbling sidewalk like a vain peacock. With both hands, he slicked his silver hair straight back. He was no longer wearing Haven's school uniform. Now he was wearing a black and grey jacket with short sleeves. There was metal rerebraces attached to his shoulders and vambraces strapped to his forearms. He was walking in heavy plated greaves, each a weapon armed with shotgun shells. A sash hung from his belt, marked with Mercury's emblem: winged boots.

A female figure accompanied Mercury, stealing into shadows wherever she could. This seemed to amuse Mercury greatly. "Emerald, why are you sneaking around like that?" he called loudly.

Dashing from her shadows, the brown-skinned thief thrust a slender finger against Mercury's lips. Emerald's attire was much more open than the school uniform. She was dressed in an exotic white crop top with a shallow, olive-green under. On her left arm were triple silver armbands. Emerald was wearing skinny white jeans with brown leather chaps. Her dual sickle-revolvers, Marjanah and Zumurrud, were holstered just above her behind.

Shushing her male cohort, Emerald leaned in close and whispered, "Are you trying to alert the whole harbor?"

Brushing Emerald's finger away from his face, Mercury only laughed, "You're being too cautious. Most of the city is watching the funeral ceremony right now. Why else do you think Cinder called a meeting during the day?" He didn't lower his voice in the slightest.

Cherry red eyes narrowed dangerously. "Mercury, I will seriously kick you in the ass if you don't shut up!" the young woman hissed.

Mercury Black laughed. "You know you're just looking for excuses to touch my ass, Emerald."

Emerald Sustrai chewed her lower lip, biting back a scathing retort. Playing Mercury's game would only give him more opportunities to irritate her. Instead, the green-haired girl darted across the street and vaulted over a chain-link fence.

Beyond the gated fence was a humongous dockside cargo port, apparently abandoned and condemned. The warehouse used to house cruise ships. It was fifty meters tall and had over four hundred square feet of empty space inside. There was plenty enough room to hide a secret criminal organization.

Emerald ran around a corner, disappearing from sight. When Mercury finally rounded the same corner, he found Emerald kneeling in front of a side doorway. Her nimble fingers were gripping a pair of thin bobby pins. Emerald stuck both pins inside the door's keyhole.

"Why would you pick the lock to our secret hideout?" Mercury leaned against the doorway, arms folded in front of his chest.

With a twist and a click, the tumblers in the door gave way. Emerald looked at her silver-haired ally and said, "If I don't keep in practice, then my skills will get rusty."

"What, are you afraid that this easy-going city will make you complacent?" Mercury snickered.

Emerald sniffed as she stepped through the darkened doorway. "I didn't become a master thief by stealing from the stupid. The people of Vale don't even have electrified locks on their doors!"

Mercury guffawed as he followed Emerald inside. "It must be so difficult for you, passing by people with genuine silver watches on their wrists. How can you _not_ rob them blind?"

"With gritted teeth and a reminder that Cinder ordered us to stay inconspicuous."

The interior of the large warehouse was enormously spacious. It would have to be, considering the jaw-dropping arsenal that it housed. From wall to wall, enormous crates filled with stolen Dust were stacked upon each other. Hundreds of White Fang members worked tirelessly around the warehouse, carrying boxes filled with rifles and bladed weapons. They were loading these boxes onto a small fleet of Bullhead VTOL tilt-jets. Their faces were hidden behind identical white Grimm masks, their armor adorned by the same mark. It was the mark of a crimson wolf with three jagged scars running down its face.

Among them, a large number of twenty foot tall mechanical battle-suits called Paladins were piloted by more White Fang. The Paladins were stolen somehow; right out from underneath the Atlesian military's noses. It never failed to impress Emerald just how resourceful the mastermind of this operation could be. Just how Cinder managed to acquire so many mecha-tanks was a mystery. While their purpose was primarily for heavy combat, the Paladins were currently being repurposed for heavy lifting. They could carry the crates of stolen Dust with much more speed and grace than a crane. When the time came for direct combat, these state-of-the-art war machines would prove themselves to be just as deadly as they were speedy and graceful.

Emerald led Mercury toward the headquarters of the warehouse. Away from the factory floor, there was a wing set aside for the leaders of this criminal operation. When the two teenagers entered in the wing, they were greeted by silence. Numerous corkboards lined the walls, occupied by maps and written instructions. The city of Vale was most prominent, although Emerald recognized a city map of their now-useless lair in Mount Glenn. Emerald burned with anguish when she realized that she was looking at the ruined remnants of Cinder Fall's grand plan. It was such a perfect plan, to drive a train from Mount Glenn into the heart of Vale. The train was loaded with explosions that were supposed to open up the tunnel and lead subterranean Grimm right in the middle of the city. But that fool, Roman Torchwick, started the attack _days_ before it was scheduled. Cinder was forced to completely scrap a huge part of her plan and has since been spending all of her time in deep meditation. It hurt Emerald to see Cinder working so hard to make sure her master plan didn't fall apart.

"Well!" Mercury announced loudly, breaking Emerald from her angry thoughts. He swaggered over to the map of Mount Glenn. Then he grabbed the paper and tore it off the corkboard. "I guess we won't need these any longer."

Mercury crumpled the map into a ball and tossed it toward a wastebasket. The ball of trash landed squarely in the middle of the bin. Emerald crossed her arms in front of her chest and shook her head ruefully.

"Those maps would still be useful if Roman hadn't ruined Cinder's plan." She spat bitterly.

"Speaking of Cinder, where do you think she is? She told us there was going to be a big meeting right around this time. She even left the dormitory before we did." Mercury looked around the space, as if he expected Cinder to magically appear. It wouldn't even surprise Mercury if Cinder really did.

Emerald snapped at Mercury, "You know very well that Cinder has been working tirelessly to keep all our efforts from going to waste. Ever since Roman got arrested, she hasn't gotten a wink of sleep."

Mercury rolled his eyes and started flapping his hand like a sock puppet. When Emerald began ranting, there was little you could do but pretend to listen.

Ignoring Mercury's antics, Emerald continued seething. "I can't believe that Roman messed up such a huge part of Cinder's plan! She had everything plotted out! But then that idiot went and flushed it all down the toilet!"

Mercury turned away from the thief. His eyes landed on something behind her. In an instant, Mercury froze in place, his face an expression of pure panic. He frantically motioned to Emerald and said, "Uh, Emmy? You may want to ixnay the Omanray ashingbay."

Oblivious to the danger, as well as to Mercury's Pig Latin, Emerald kept right on railing against Roman. "I swear; I hope I never see that fool again! If Roman dares show his face around here again, I'll make him wish he was executed in prison!"

All of the sudden, Emerald sensed a presence directly behind her. She spun around and barked, "Mercury! I told you to never stand right behind me—"

Instead of standing right behind her, Mercury was actually standing far off in the distance. Emerald adopted a look of confusion. Why did she sense someone so close then? The riddle was solved as soon as the master thief glanced down at her feet. Directly beneath her breasts was a head of hair colored bubblegum pink and chocolate brown with snow white stripes. The head tilted up and Emerald found herself staring into a pair of mismatched eyes, one pink and one brown. Emerald staggered backwards, startled.

The tri-colored hair and eyes belonged to one Neo, last name unknown. The pale girl was dressed in white Victorian era clothing, with white knee-high boots and a black corset. Emerald hadn't even heard Neo approaching. The diminutive bodyguard didn't make a single sound. Emerald hasn't even heard her speak one word yet. But she didn't need to say anything in this instance. Neo's teeth were clenched, her fingers gripping her parasol tightly, and her eyes were stone cold. It was a wonder how something so small could emanate so much killing intent. There was very little known about Neo; but her loyalty to Roman Torchwick was unquestionable.

Mercury let loose a nervous giggle. "If you ladies will excuse me, I'm going to grab the cleaning supplies that we'll most certainly be needing soon. It's been nice knowing you, Emerald!" With that, Mercury Black began walking away at a brisk pace.

Emerald reached behind her back with both hands and gripped her dual revolvers. Neo's gloved fingers were resting on her pink and white parasol, a deadly weapon that concealed an even deadlier sword. Silence settled between the two women. Was Neo even a woman? Emerald didn't even know how old the strawberry shortcake was. She could be twelve, fifteen, or a middle aged midget.

Unwilling to stand down from a fight, Emerald broke the silence. "What's the matter, Neo? Can't handle hearing the truth about your boss?"

Eyes unblinking, Neo gripped her parasol with two hands. Slowly, deliberately, Neo began to unsheathe her sword from her parasol. The blade hissed like a serpent as it was released from its confinement. Emerald gradually drew her sickle-revolvers, her fingers on all four triggers. One trigger would fire the revolver. The second would unfold the sickles beneath the barrel of her guns. Emerald didn't know if the imminent fight would be close quarters or long ranged. So she only pulled the second trigger for Zumurrud, extending the wicked blade with a snap.

Neo drew the last inch of blade out of its sheath. Uneven eyes trained on Emerald's scarlet orbs. The two stood as still as statues, just waiting for someone to make the first move. In a fight where the enemy combatant was a complete unknown, you never want to give her the first strike advantage. Emerald leveled her revolver, Marjanah, at Neo while keeping Zumurrud's blade concealed behind her back.

It was then that commanding, feminine voice pierced the atmosphere. "Cease your childish strife!"

With a single motion, Emerald collapsed Zumurrud into revolver form and holstered both weapons. She turned her back on Neo and looked up toward the source of the voice. Standing on a level above them was a woman draped in darkness; her eyes glowed in the shadows like molten gold. The matron began to slowly wind down a revolving stairway. With each step, her obsidian high heeled slippers clinked. Pale, slender legs reached up into a scarlet, off-the-shoulders mini-dress. Golden-yellow markings snaked their way up both burgundy sleeves, across the neckline, and down the small of her back. Emerald has seen these markings glowing whenever the woman commanded her flames to life. The femme fatale reached up with a long sleeved hand and flipped her onyx black hair forward, over her bare shoulder. Amber eyes burned with hidden power, riveting Emerald in place. Neo sheathed her sword and popped open her parasol above her head, spinning it daintily.

Stammering, Emerald tried to explain herself before the ringleader. "I—I was only saying that—that Roman should be punished for ruining your perfect plan!"

Long, willowy fingers wove forward and gently grasped Emerald's chin. The Queen never broke eye contact with her and Emerald could not look away from those radiant yellow eyes. A sultry smile spread across those lusciously full lips. When she spoke, her words were quiet and premeditated. Emerald found herself hanging on every word, completely and willfully spellbound.

Cinder Fall whispered, "If my plan was perfect, then it wouldn't have been ruined."

Startled, Emerald could only stare in wonder. Cinder removed her hand from Emerald's face and strode past. The master thief's gaze fell on her back, on the symbol exposed through a keyhole in Cinder's crimson garment. The symbol was a pair of ebony high heeled slippers, seemingly tattooed between her provocative shoulder blades. The obsidian slippers were placed sole to sole, forming a crooked black heart. It wasn't apparent upon the first glance, Emerald herself had only noticed it after a long period of staring, but the symbol wasn't actually tattooed on Cinder's back.

_It was branded._

The brand was in a place that made it impossible for Cinder to have done it herself. It must have been someone else who wielded the brand. Who could possibly be so cruel; to press a white-hot band of metal against such pure skin? Emerald didn't even notice it, but her hand had begun to reach toward the brand. When Cinder spoke again, Emerald snatched her hand back in fright. But Cinder wasn't looking at Emerald, but at Neo instead.

Addressing the tiny girl, Cinder said, "I understand that you're upset about Roman Torchwick's sentence. Please, understand that I plan on taking full responsibility."

Mouth dropped open, Emerald almost shouted before catching herself. "How was Roman's capturing your fault? He's the one that—"

"But it was my fault." Cinder admitted almost sadly. The mastermind dropped her gaze to the floor. Emerald fought the urge to embrace the older woman. "Had I not underestimated Ozpin's Hunters, Roman would not have been taken from us."

"I don't understand." Emerald argued, wringing her hands together.

"I never told Roman what to do if the Hunters found our hide-out. I simply did not anticipate such an eventuality. It should have been obvious that the creatures of Grimm would lead the Hunters to Mount Glenn." Cinder brought her pale hands together. "It was my failing that landed Roman in prison. That is why it is my responsibility to bring him back."

Mercury Black entered the scene, a spray bottle in one hand and a tarp tucked beneath his arm. As soon as he laid eyes on Emerald, he let both items clatter to the floor and walked over to Cinder. "I heard what you said. I've gotta say, I never expected you to be so— what's the word— reasonable."

Cinder shot a scorching glare at her male underling. He raised both hands in defense and stepped back, almost tripping on the tarp he left on the ground. He hastily explained himself. "All I'm saying is that I've worked under a number of crime lords who would never admit to making mistakes. They would just cap the messenger in the knees then blame somebody else for it." Mercury bent down and tapped his knees with a faint metallic sound.

Her glare cooled to a mere glower, Cinder turned to lecture to everyone. "These chains of command are burdensome. But if I don't always perform at my absolute best, then what reason do I give for others to follow me?" Cinder's words sounded as though she were quoting a phrase from someone else. "A good leader must take responsibility for their errors. A good leader doesn't shift the blame, but accepts when they make mistakes. Whether we like it or not, leaders have a duty to their allies." Then she turned her burning eyes skyward and dictated to the ceiling. "Isn't that right, Adam?"

Emerald followed Cinder's gaze and her jaw dropped. Nestled in the dark rafters of the warehouse was the leader of the White Fang himself, Adam Taurus. Wearing a pitch black trench coat over black pants, he hid well in the Darkness. The only very visible thing about him was his white Grimm mask and his head of bristly crimson hair.

Descending from high shadows, Adam landed gracefully before Cinder. As he stood upright, Adam loomed above everyone. He turned his head and seemingly stared down at everyone in front of him. It was hard to tell where he was looking, his eyes hidden behind a domino-style white and red mask. Twin horns erupted out from his brow, the mark of his faunus heritage. Then Adam twisted his neck and looked directly at Cinder.

She rested her hand on her hip and spoke in a half-pleasant voice. "I notice that you didn't step in when there was a fight about to break out."

Adam turned his head toward Neo, then toward Emerald herself. Finally, he regarded Cinder and said, "They are not members of the White Fang. They are not my soldiers to discipline."

"Of course, you're right." Cinder's tone was no longer pleasant. She turned her head slightly and briefly glanced at Emerald out of the corner of her igneous eye. Emerald suddenly felt her heart drop somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach. Her near-fight with Neo reflected poorly upon Cinder. Emerald's cherry eyes dropped to her feet, hunched her shoulders, and wrung her hands together tight enough to ignite a spark. She clenched her teeth and made a voiceless vow to make Cinder proud.

Neo's expression never changed from simple disinterest. She just kept on twirling her parasol between gloved fingers.

Adam spoke again. "I still have need for Roman Torchwick's spy network. The White Fang will offer whatever resources you need, within reason."

Smiling with her mouth, yet not with her eyes, Cinder repeated, "Within reason, of course." Then Cinder gestured toward a set of double doors. "We'll have the meeting in the conference room. If you'll please enter, we can get started."

Leading the way, Adam Taurus stepped through the doors. Next followed Mercury Black, strutting behind Adam at his own pace. Emerald made her way to the door, staring at the floor to avoid Cinder's pyretic eyes. When Neo finally began strolling toward the doors, Cinder put her hand in front of Neo's face. The very small girl stopped and looked up at the tall woman. Neo's face scrunched up in mystification; multicolored eyes locked with saffron. Cinder placed her hand gently on Neo's shoulder.

"I will rescue Roman and return him to you." Cinder began softly. Neo blinked hard, the color of both eyes changed to pink.

"However, I will need your help." Neo's eyes broke away.

"I know you don't take orders from me. But that will have to change." Gloved fingers squeezed her parasol tightly, the leather creaking.

"I need you to trust me." Tiny teeth clenched, grinding painfully.

"If I'm going to save him, I need you to trust me; the same way you trust him." A long pause passed between Neo and Cinder Fall. Finally, Neo seemed to visibly deflate. She loosened her grip on her parasol and her jaw relaxed. Neo heaved a desolate sigh; her eyes fell to the floor.

A slender hand slipped beneath Neo's chin and forced her to look Cinder in the eye. Neo's eyes were both vanilla white and swimming in forlorn tears. Cinder let go of her chin and put a tender hand on top of Neo's two-toned head.

"I know you miss him." Her tone was understanding, without sounding condescending. The abandoned girl's chin dropped to her chest. Cinder ran her svelte fingers through the colors on Neo's head.

"Can you trust me?" Cinder asked innocently.

The silence stretched on and on. Cinder waited patiently for Neo's answer. Then, out of the silence, came a voice so fragile it sounded like paper-thin glass. The voice said one word.

"Yes."

Cinder smiled broadly, her amber eyes shone in the darkness above Neo's head. The temptress placed her hand on Neo's small back and led her through the double doors. The doors swung shut behind them.


	9. Hero's Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby Rose learns the hardest lesson about leadership. Ozpin laments over his greatest failure.

Silence reigned supreme inside Beacon Academy's amphitheater. Where earlier there was a huge crowd of students and teachers, there was now emptiness. The reporters and the cameras had all cleared out hours ago. The spacious auditorium felt vast compared to before. The Moon hovered directly over Beacon Academy, casting its light down through the glass dome ceiling. The broad signal light from the Headmaster's central tower swept over the campus.

The four girls of Team RWBY walked along the gardens. The fresh scent of spring coiled around the air like an invitation for romance. A diverse bouquet of colorful lilies lined the pathway. Posies of roses grew around the plot, sweetening the air. A marble fountain babbled gently in the night, concentric ripples spreading across the vast pool. Holographic torches illuminated the path with a warm yellow light.

Ruby was in the front, leading her team. Weiss and Blake walked beside each other. Yang trailed behind, her lilac eyes on the ground.

Nobody was speaking.

A somber atmosphere hung in the air like cobwebs. It was an uncomfortable sort of silence, one without apparent cause. Blake could tell something was wrong. The brunette turned her head and snuck a peek behind her. Yang had been behaving strangely this morning, more distant than aloof. Then, just before the ceremony, the blonde bombshell had acted like a complete dud. From an outsider's perspective, Yang had been completely normal during the ceremony itself. She was throwing kisses and smiling like a complete ham while the cameras were rolling. But the feline faunus could tell that her friend was overacting. Blake was determined to avoid prying into Yang's business, but growing concern was weakening her resolve.

Weiss couldn't figure it out; why was everyone being so quiet? Yes, the funeral was saddening and it was only respectful that you held your silence during the procession. But it was over now, so why did this feel like a vigil? Where did all the energy go?

Once in a broken blue moon, one of the Rose-Xiao-Long sisters might have a quiet moment. When one sister became gloomy, the other one would sniff out the irregularity and correct the abnormality. It was usually Yang cheering up Ruby after a poor test grade. They acted like an emotional safety net for the other. For both of them to be acting like zombies was almost impossible to comprehend.

But now both sisters were malfunctioning and neither one was coming to the other's aid. Yang was trailing behind, dragging her boots over the cobblestone path. Ember Cecila swung limp at her sides. Her flaxen hair seemed dull; head hung low; amethyst eyes downcast. Yang looked like gravity itself was overpowering her.

What was worse, Ruby seemed to have lost her vigor. All of the excess energy she boasted of prior to the ceremony was gone, and then some. Weiss stared at Ruby's back, noticing how her shoulders were drooped, watching the red riding shroud drag along the ground. Where was the curious wind that always kept that crimson cloak fluttering even when indoors? When did Ruby become so small?

Weiss sped up her pace until she was beside the elfin schoolgirl. "Well Ruby, the ceremony is over. What restaurant did you want to go to?" She forced a smile. Maybe she could trick Ruby into smiling herself?

The babble of the fountain was the only response. Low were Ruby's eyes. She was looking down at her hands. Nestled in her fingers was the golden medal she had been awarded with. Ruby's reflection stared back at her through the golden sheen. Silver orbs locked with gold. Ruby didn't even react to Weiss immediately. When crimson clad girl finally noticed the question, her response was, "Sorry Weiss, I'm not hungry."

Weiss stopped walking, completely floored. She looked back at Blake to see if she had heard. Judging from the wide amber eyes, Weiss was not just hearing things. That was the last thing either of them had expected the sugar lusting Huntress to say. This wasn't just fatigue; there was something wrong with their leader, their friend.

Dashing forth, Weiss caught up with the distracted girl. She reached out and wrapped her slender fingers around Ruby's slim forearm. The young teen looked up from her medallion and turned to face her friend. Ashen eyes glistened underneath furrowed brows. Upon seeing how upset Ruby was, Weiss let go of her arm. A pit formed in her stomach.

"Is it my fault?"

The voice was too small to belong to Ruby. It was so quiet, like a whisper from a suffering child. Soft lips barely parted to let the words slip out. The question hung in the air like a guillotine poised above Ruby's pale neck. Would the wrong answer bring the blade down?

Icy blue eyes blinked rapidly. "What do you mean?"

Every word was quieter than the last. Weiss struggled to hear the complete question.

"Is it my fault that so many people died?"

For one still moment, nobody knew how to react.

Boots stomped on cobblestone. A luminous yellow sun erupted behind Weiss and Blake. The temperature in the garden skyrocketed, causing beads of sweat to form on their brows. The monochrome pair glanced down and saw their shadows leap out in front of them. They were barely able to jump out of the way. Yang powered straight toward her sister and grabbed her by the shoulders.

Livid lilac eyes tainted to crimson. Yang opened her mouth wide into a shout. "Why would you even _think_ such a thing? Who put that idea in your head? _Gimme_ a name, I'll _beat_ them to a bloody _pulp_!"

Immediately, Blake knew there was something _seriously_ wrong with Yang. The faunus has never heard Yang raise her voice to her little sister before. Feeling righteous anger was one thing; but this much anger was too explosive. The blonde didn't become angry because of what Ruby said. She was already angry. Something has been eating at her all day, chewing the life out from her heart. Something was causing Yang considerable grief and she was using Ruby's troubles as an excuse to vent her frustrations.

Ruby flinched back, her silver eyes widened. She brought her hands up as if in self-defense. Her small mouth opened slightly, but no names came forth. Yang tightened her grip on Ruby's thin shoulders, powerful fingers wrinkling the crimson cloak. A pained whimper came from her sister. Suddenly aware of what she was doing, Yang released Ruby. The petite girl stepped away from her sister. The elder sibling's stomach curdled in shame.

The radiance from the blonde bruiser's Semblance faded like the setting sun. Her crimson eyes squeezed shut. When they opened again, they were faded amethyst. The roasting heat plummeted, letting the night air cool the three bodies.

Face contorting with anguish, Yang put one foot forward and extended her hands fretfully. Ruby didn't retreat and let Yang embrace her. Wrapping her arms around her sister, Yang tried to keep the anger out of her voice. "I didn't mean to scare you, Ruby." The hug was immensely gentle. Yang pressed her full lips against the forehead of her little sister. "But what you're asking is complete nonsense! You saved so many people yesterday. Why do you feel responsible for the dead?"

Ruby buried her face into Yang's shoulder. She was trembling with her whole body. "I was thinking about the mission. I can't help it, but I just keep remembering how badly I screwed up. Seeing those caskets made me realize that I'm the one at fault. I killed those people."

As soon as she heard those words, Blake sputtered in disbelief. "How did you kill those people? Roman Torchwick was the one who led the Grimm into the city!"

"But I was the one to alert him!" Suddenly angry, Ruby thrashed with her whole body until she was free from her sister's loving embrace. She stepped away from her teammates. "We were searching for Roman in the city, but he found me first. I blew our element of surprise!" She swung her hand in front of her chest, knocking away Yang's attempts at hugging her sister again.

"Ruby, you're talking nonsense." Weiss sounded exasperated.

"Actually…" a new voice spoke. Team RWBY turned all at once. The tall, princely form of Headmaster Ozpin came into view. Brown eyes peered over black spectacles, darting from girl to girl. He marched toward the team, one footstep accompanied by the clacking of his cane on cobblestone. In his other hand was a steaming mug of coffee, completing his image. The most powerful Huntsman in the world approached the team of first year students. When Ozpin was standing before them, he stopped and brought his mug of coffee to his lips. After taking a leisurely sip, the Headmaster completed his hanging sentence.

"…I'd say that Ruby has a point."

A couple of moments passed as the team processed the meaning of those words. Amethyst eyes converted to scarlet. The mane of golden hair was set ablaze anew. The flickering light from the flames reflected off Ozpin's spectacles.

"You watch what you say," Yang breathed slowly, "around my sister." There was no mistaking the threat that seethed from her lips. A lesser man would have melted from underneath the heat.

Ozpin asked Yang a simple question, "Or you'll do what?"

Completely shut down, the blonde bruiser could only gape in bewildered outrage. Ozpin stepped passed the stunned sister and stood in front of Ruby. Her small chin dropped to her chest, unable to look at the man.

"Do you really think…" the words seemed hard for her to say, "…that it's my fault?" Ruby asked the ground.

The princely man knelt down, his right knee touched cobblestone. He set his coffee mug on the ground and reached for the girl's face. Ozpin grasped Ruby's chin and made her look at him square in the eye. Sharp brown met silver orbs swimming in sorrow. "It doesn't matter what I think. What do you feel?"

A small voice rose from the smaller girl. "I feel guilty. If I hadn't ruined our element of surprise, then we could have stopped Roman before he launched his attack."

The Headmaster nodded sagely. Then he put one hand on his left knee and with the other gripped his cane tightly. He pushed off his knee, forcing it to straighten. With a hard grunt, the greatest Huntsman rose from his kneeling position. His left knee popped as he ascended.

Ozpin turned his head toward Ruby's team. Chestnut eyes scythed through the girls. "Listen up, the rest of you. Ruby Rose is learning a cruel lesson that every leader must."

He drew a breath and closed his eyes.

They opened. "You made a mistake that compromised the mission. As a leader, your decisions and mistakes carry more weight than those you lead. When anyone makes a mistake, they endanger everything they have been entrusted with. The common man is trusted with scarcely any more than their own lives. But leaders are trusted with so much; the lives of their teammates, the lives of their allies, and the lives of the public. When leaders error; the damage ripples through all of it."

"Learning to accept accountability is something that every good leader must do."

Glistening tears fell from sterling silver and wetted rosy cheeks. "Then, it really is my fault that those people died."

A pregnant pause settled. Headmaster Ozpin brought one hand to his breast pocket and produced a white cloth. He held the handkerchief in front of him, level to Ruby's tears. She reached out and took the hankie. As the young girl dried her tears, Ozpin spoke again with a softer tone.

"There is another side to this lecture, one which is equally important. Learning to be accountable is only half the lesson. But you must also learn how to avoid taking too much responsibility."

Clouded globes widened. Looking up from the gifted tissue, the first-year leader held an expression of bewilderment. She stared at the tall professor, hanging on his every word.

"If you try to take all of the responsibility for this tragedy, then you are going to take responsibility away from the true perpetrator. You must learn to recognize this: you are not responsible for other people's decisions. It was Roman Torchwick who launched the attack, not you."

Standing off to the side, Team RWBY listened intently. Blake nodded her head in understanding. It was a difficult lesson to remember, but she had long since come to terms with it. Having grown up within the White Fang, it was easy to forget that she had only been a kitten when the White Fang turned to terrorism. She used to spend sleepless nights lamenting on her inability to prevent its fall into debauchery. Eventually, Blake came to realize that there was virtually nothing she could do to change Adam Taurus. Once that man made a choice, he refused to even acknowledge any other options. His decision to become a monster was his alone. It was after this epiphany that Blake decided to abandon the White Fang. It hurt Blake to leave her family, but staying was killing her.

Shaking his dusky head, the professor whispered distractedly. He sounded almost like he was talking to himself. "I have seen far too many leaders crush themselves underneath the weight of their responsibility."

Then Ozpin looked at Ruby's teammates. "Refusing to take responsibility for your mistakes is the wrong thing to do. You will never grow if you cannot accept responsibility for your actions." Then Ozpin looked at Ruby. "But the opposite extreme is just as wrong. You will only hurt yourself if you try to make yourself the only one responsible. When the leader hurts, so does their team."

Ruby reached for her neck and gripped the golden medal hanging there. Her golden reflection stared back with hateful eyes. Voice full of contempt, Ruby glared at the medallion. "I don't deserve this." She lifted it straight up and shook her crimson-tipped hair until the ribbon slipped free completely. The young Huntress stretched her arm back, preparing to throw the medal into the distance.

A powerful hand gripped Ruby's slender wrist and held it in place. In one smooth motion, Ozpin plucked the medal out of her hand and slipped the ribbon back over her neck. He released the captive wrist. The Headmaster put his hand on her narrow shoulders and turned Ruby to face him squarely.

His voice was stern. "That medallion is nothing more than a tiny golden plate. It has no value for you. The ceremony was not held for you to enjoy. It was held for the people of Vale, so that they might see their saviors."

Ozpin lifted his hand off of Ruby's shoulder and gripped his cane. His razor sharp eyes drilled into her colorless globes. "They need a _heroine_ right now, in the wake of tragedy. They look up to _you_ now. _You_ give them hope for the future. So long as _you_ live, all of Remnant will see _you_ as a paragon of virtue."

Ruby shook her scarlet highlights wildly. Her voice shrill, she protested, "Me? I'm no paragon of virtue! I'm just a normal girl, with normal knees!"

The greatest Huntsman spoke like a sage with ancient experience. "This is the burden of being a hero. Children look up to you, people trust you to make the right choices, and the whole world will place their lives in your very human hands. They do this because you make them feel safe. It does not matter what you want. All that matters is what the people need."

"Why do the people look up to me? All I did was my duty." Tiny hands balled into tight fists. "Even then, I messed up! I didn't even do that right!" The elfin girl stood as still as a statue, waiting for the answer.

"The only thing you can do is improve yourself. Become the heroine that the people believe you to be"  
The words grew quieter. "You must learn from your mistakes. Become greater than the girl who made them. Accept them, reflect on them, but do not dwell on your mistakes."

Ozpin sounded more than tired. He sounded more than exhausted. He sounded world-weary. He turned his eyes toward the night sky. Countless stars glistened like candles in a vast indigo ocean. Above the tallest tower in Beacon Academy, the shattered face of the Moon gazed down on him. It watched just the same as it did every night of his life.

"Luna knows that if I dwelled on all of my mistakes, I would be frozen in place until Judgment Day."

Turning on his Oxford heels, Ozpin strolled away from Team RWBY. As soon as he parted ways, the three girls descended upon their leader. No doubt they would comfort and shower her with love and affection. That was not Ozpin's place, not anymore. He knew that he had fulfilled his duty when he saw her expression. Ruby's eyes were no longer soft like silver, but as hard as platinum. She would no longer bend and break.

That young girl was well on her way to becoming a powerful Huntress.

* * *

Professor Ozpin's loyal assistant and most trusted confidant, Glynda Goodwitch, stood at the entrance of the gardens. Flaxen blonde locks were fixed back into a tight bun, leaving only a curl of hair hanging in front of her soft face. The night air breezed through the hip-length cape on her back. Glynda was wearing a white blouse and a long black business skirt. The violet tiara that was her emblem was emblazoned on her cape. Eyes the color of peridots and twice as stony watched the Headmaster stroll through the gardens at a leisurely pace. She adjusted narrow spectacles resting on her nose with one hand. Her other hand palmed a scroll.

Walking in high heels, Glynda approached her superior. Here she was waiting for him; and the man had the audacity to stop and smell the roses growing along the cobblestone path. She shook her fair head ruefully. "Sometimes I wonder about you. One day, you brush off colossal property damage as child's play." The food fight at the beginning of the semester had ascended into legend. "Now you brow beat a lesson into them without holding any punches."

Ozpin wafted the scent of the roses with his free hand. Waving the sweet air toward his nostrils, he responded. His tone was low. "The breach has shown me just how far our enemies are willing to stoop. I was hoping against hope that they would have more time. I wanted them to enjoy their childish innocence for as long as possible." Then Ozpin turned toward his vice assistant. His coffee-colored eyes were hard as iron. "But it has become clear that whomever we're dealing with does not value childhood as much as I do. These children have a lot of growing up to do, and there's not enough time left in the world to prepare them."

"We're teachers, parting lessons onto our students is our duty." Glynda simply said. She tilted the screen of her scroll toward herself and began to tap its cool surface with her thumb.

A defeated sigh erupted out of Ozpin's lips and he leaned heavily on his cane. His shoulders dropped, his chin fell to his chest, and his gaze became unfocused. The professor didn't breathe in for the longest time.

Glynda looked up from her scroll, mild concern in her peridot eyes. "Is something the matter?"

Still watching the ground, the Huntsman responded in a low tone. "I'm afraid that I may be making the same mistakes all over again." His voice was quiet.

Knowing better than to pry into her superior's matters, the witch held her silence. The splashing of a distant fountain filled the air void of sound. When the Headmaster began to speak again, he spoke as though he were in a confessional. Ozpin's words were scorched with bitterness as he began to repent his secret regrets.

"Over a decade ago, I had a young student with the simplest soul I have ever seen. She was so pure that I became determined to protect her childish innocence. All she wanted was to become a heroine and protect the world from danger. She was a prodigy, extraordinarily talented in warfare. Bluntly, I would say that Miss Nikos reminds me a lot of her. That little girl was only twelve years old when she was accepted into Beacon Academy."

In his mind's eye, Ozpin could still see that small girl. Long, blonde hair fell over her tiny shoulders. Straight locks draped over her eyes like a golden curtain. Cream colored orbs peeped through her fair bangs at the Headmaster. She giggled as she watched Ozpin "struggle" to defeat her in a simple game of chess. Her laughter was like the music of springtime. She sat in a large chair on top of an olive green cushion, her bare feet swinging freely above the floor. It would be a couple of years before her toes could touch the floor.

"I supported her with all of my efforts. I made her the leader of her team. I told her beautiful lies, filling her head with the idea that the world was a wonderful place which needed someone with a pure and simple soul. I taught her that love was the greatest power in this world."

There was so much hesitation in his voice. Each word was like a barbed wire being dragged out of his throat.

"I told her that the most brilliant lights would never cease to burn; that not even the darkest of evils could possibly touch them."

Ozpin spoke in a hollow voice.

"She absorbed every word like a child does. She took it all to heart and began to grow into a paragon of love and virtue. I thought that I had found what I was looking for. I thought she was the simple soul that I was seeking."

"But…" His shoulders shook. Whether it was anger, wretchedness, or a mixture of both; Glynda couldn't tell.

"But, then she lost someone dear to her. A Huntress she worshiped as a heroine was killed." Suddenly, Ozpin looked at Glynda. Frantic now, he tried to explain, "This little girl was no child though, please believe me. She wasn't a stranger to loss. But it was the way that her heroine was killed that caused everything to happen."

The greatest Huntsman ground his teeth, hissing the next sentence. His closest confidant had to strain to hear the words.

"Her heroine was _murdered_ by the **darkest evil in this world**."

Watching Ozpin grind his teeth, Glynda came to realized that he was not referring to the creatures of Grimm.

"Everything I had told her was put to a lie. Her whole world was shattered and she couldn't cope with the realization. The truth of this world was more than she could bear."

The fair witch felt her heart plummet as she realized where this tale was heading. "What happened?"

Ozpin turned his head and looked at her. Glynda couldn't even describe the depth of the pain she saw. His eyes…

"She killed herself. She burned down half of Beacon in doing so. Nobody else died, that I made sure of. But she didn't even try to escape the flames. We never even found her body in the piles of ashes."

The sorceress didn't speak. What could she say?

"Her death is my greatest failure."

The air was as still as a painting. In the distance, a quartet of female voices could be heard across the garden. Team RWBY was leaving the gardens through another gate. Finally off to bed, it would seem.

Finally, Ozpin broke the silence. "The council of Vale has told me that my position in Beacon will be put under consideration. Maybe it's for the best if I stepped down as Headmaster." Then chuckling darkly, "I'm not a very good professor either. I'm always too late to begin the hard lessons."

Glynda clenched her fists and argued against Ozpin's self deprecation. "You have experiences that nobody else does. Someone who has lived as long a life as you should share your experiences. I trust that you know what you're doing."

"…the burden of heroes…"

Peridot eyes blinked. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?"

A mirthless smile graced Ozpin's face. He straightened his back and pulled his shoulders up. Standing to his full height, the greatest Huntsman lifted himself upright before Glynda Goodwitch. He loosened his death grip on his cane. When he spoke, his words were warm again.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I'm grateful for you, Glynda; that you're still willing to stand beside me."

Coffee colored eyes met lime.

"…Wherever you go…"

This time it was Ozpin's turn to ask. "What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"I'm going to retire for the night. Enjoy sweet dreams." The Headmaster began to walk toward Beacon Academy's central tower. Glynda Goodwitch stood still and watched his broad back as he withdrew into the distant dark.

* * *

Yang Xiao Long lied in her bed. She could hear the calm breathing of the other three girls as they slept. Amethyst eyes stared at the ceiling, blinking periodically. She held as still as possible, trying to…

Sleep? Was she trying to sleep? If this was the case, then why not close her eyes? Exhaustion pushed her eyelids closed, but she forced them to remain wide open. Sleep seeped into her muscles, numbing them until they felt like solid lead bars.

The blonde bruiser couldn't feel any part of her body. Sleep paralysis had stolen her skin. She didn't detect the weight of the blanket on her chest. She felt no warmth or coolness. Was her heart even beating?

Before she knew it, the lids of her eyes had drooped halfway down. With enormous effort, Yang pulled her eyes fully open. The skin around the sockets stretched as her eyes bulged out. Her lower eyelids trembled.

She was trying so hard to keep her lilac eyes open. Why didn't she want to sleep? Was she afraid of what she might dream again?

Was Yang afraid to see Raven Branwen? Did she not want to face her mother?

What would she even say?

Unable to keep them open any longer, Yang could only watch in despair as her eyelids gradually stole her sight. A curtain of darkness slowly slid over her amethyst eyeballs. As the darkness fell over the sun dragon, she had but one last desperate prayer.

" _Please, let me have a dreamless sleep."_

Yang Xiao Long would not get her wish tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the end of Act 0. Everything thus far has been set-up for the real story. Next, I will introduce "Requiem Chapters", which are dedicated to exploring the back story of certain characters.


	10. Prelude to Act 1: Requiem for Taiyang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let us revisit that night so long ago, when a dusty old crow rescued his family from the jaws of Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first Requiem Chapter. The next three chapters are very dark and angst-ridden.
> 
> WARNING: If you are sensitive to the subject of suicide and child abandonment, please take care when reading this. There may be things in these chapters that set off triggers.

Withered brown leaves rustled in the ghostly wind. The night would have been silent, if not for the wailing gust and the crackle of fronds. Black boots trampled over the dead blades, the crunching of their filaments accompanying his every step. A frigid breeze cut across his face like a frozen knife, drawing red to his sallow cheeks. In response, the man reached behind his hair and drew a tattered dusky hood over his head. A flurry of leaves swept between his legs and caught the torn hem of his ragged shadowy cloak. Once upon a time, the mantle was whole and proud. It used to be long enough to reach his heels. Now it was torn to pieces, scarcely half its former length. The shroud was so threadbare that the fringes appeared to be thin strips of rags. The trimmings were frayed to such an extent that they appeared as crow feathers.

Above, the sky was awash with low churning clouds, reflecting the storm that grew in his heart. Towering trees with ebony branches reached down low, blocking the way. Their naked twigs grabbed like fingers, clawing at his ashen face as he marched along the trail. With a leather gloved hand, he pushed aside the branches. The brittle limbs snapped and fell as kindling onto the forest floor. They too cracked beneath his feet as he made his way through the winding path.

A single eye peered out from beneath onyx bangs. His right eye was the color of a blood ruby. The left side of his face was hidden behind an eye-patch. Upon the eye-patch was emblazoned a symbol. The icon was that of an eye, but with mechanical cogs in place of a pupil. Black lashes spread from the emblematic eye like the wings of a crow.

In the distance, beyond another acre of woodland, stood a humble house nestled at the foot of a mighty oak. No lights shone from the windows and there was no smoke rings rising from the chimney. If he didn't know any better, then he would think that nobody was home.

As he approached the house, the man shrugged his lean shoulders and slung his pitch-dark scythe across his narrow back. The head of the scythe bobbed above his hood with every step. A feathery pattern was inscribed along the curved blade of the cutting edge. The long snath was the barrel of his sniper rifle. The stock of the weapon jostled against his tailbone. The sniper-scythe, _Dicter Tawel_ , was known as one of the most dangerous weapons ever designed.

Gravel path gave way to a stone path which cut through a humble garden plot. The cold, hard ground murdered every plant that tried to grow, save for one. A single white rose stood upright on a long green stem. The man halted and gazed down upon the defiant perennial. He wondered why this rose survived its caretaker. He bent a knee and crouched down until his eye was level to the yonic petals. Drawing in its sweet scent, the man closed his scarlet eye and briefly let himself fall into summertime memories.

The short-lived moment passed and the man returned to the unforgiving present.

The man left the white rose behind and strode up to the front door. He raised his gloved left hand, metallic grinding accompanying the movement. His fingers curled in the glove, the leather creaked as he coiled his digits into a fist. Then he struck the wooden frame of the door three times in succession. The frame shuddered with every hit.

Time passed. The screams of the wind rose in pitch.

Again, the man rained three more blows on the wooden door frame. It sounded like cannon fire echoing throughout the humble abode. The only response was the crackle of dead and dried leaves.

His lips pulled back into a contemptuous snarl, baring teeth. The man took two steps back and lifted one boot. He muttered an apology underneath his breath.

The boot launched forth like a missile and struck the timber entry. Wooden slivers fragmented as the entire door caved underneath the force of the kick. The entrance swung inward and slammed the inside wall. Two bronze hinges came out of the frame, leaving the door hanging by only one remaining hinge. The surviving hinge squealed in agony as the weight of the door threatened to wrench it out.

Inside, the house was completely black, save for a square patch of strangled moonlight falling through the front hole. The man's shadow nearly eclipsed the light. An acidic stench rose to the man's nostrils, bringing a tear to his right eye. It smelled of alcohol, sweat, and grief. He gritted his teeth, fighting back a wave of nausea. Standing in the doorway for a moment, his eye adjusted to the darkness. From what minuscule light that illuminated the house, the man could see the empty glass bottles carpeting the floor. It was clear, from the thin coating of dust, that these bottles had not been disturbed until the moment the door came down.

Then he spoke into the abysmal darkness, his voice deep and rigid.

"I have come, Taiyang."

The gloom shook for only a second. Had he not been watching for it, he would have failed to notice the movement. A mountainous figure stirred in the shadow. An earsplitting creak sounded from beyond the patch of light. The humongous silhouette rolled in place until a pair of eyes came into view. Those red-lined eyes fell upon the man in the door frame. A dry cough erupted from cracked lips. The coughing fit lasted until there was no more breath left in the man.

"You dusty old Qrow," a hoarse voice croaked, "you stand in my house with your hood and scythe. You look like Death. Have you come to take someone else from me?"

His boots pushed aside beer bottles as Qrow Branwen let himself inside. He strode through the remnants of escapism until he reached the front windows. With a single motion, Qrow grabbed the window shades and tore them off the curtain rods. The hangings fluttered as they fell to the floor, blanketing numerous drained bottles. The outside light flooded into the dreary room and illuminated the grief-stricken mess within. A coffee table came into view, every available square inch occupied by an empty beer bottle or can. There was a bookshelf along the wall, but the bottles on the shelves outnumbered the books. The fireplace was cold, its heath filled with grey ashes. The mantle shelf held more spent alcoholic beverages than family pictures.

Every single picture frame was face down.

An enormous body lay across a grungy sofa recliner. As soon as the light reached his eyes, the man groaned and recoiled from the piercing spears. The sofa chair creaked once again in protest of the sudden movement. Thick fingers rubbed at his offended orbs, tears flowing down his face and wetted his unkempt beard. Qrow could smell the alcohol on his breath from where he was standing. From his current state, nobody would ever guess that this wreck was once a world-renown Huntsman.

Taiyang was a mountain of a man. He was taller than anyone else in Signal Academy, standing at seven feet and two inches. His arms were like truck tires, round and firm to the touch. Qrow has seen this man uproot a healthy maple tree with those tremendous weapons. He had broad shoulders and a barrel chest, his solid pectorals flexed with every movement. His abdominals were chiseled from stone. His legs were no less muscular than his arms. They could carry the Huntsman faster than a speeding locomotive with many times as much force. Every single aspect of this man's body boasted of an indestructible juggernaut. There were very few things on Remnant that could stop his frontal assault; the creatures of Grimm were not among them.

However, his face told a completely different story than his body. For all of his strength, Taiyang was a broken shell of his former self. Watery lavender eyes peered out from beneath a thick brow. His forehead was layered with grease and skin flakes. Tangled, golden locks fell behind his head. His blond lumberjack beard appeared as though it hadn't been kept for weeks. Sorrow had carved deep grooves into Taiyang's face. Grief had taken its toll on the man that Qrow had once called his brother in blood. It hurt to look upon what loss has done to him. How was it possible that only fifteen days ago, Taiyang Xiao Long was the happiest husband on Patch?

The question that had been asked was still hanging in the dusty air.

Qrow was no stranger to accusations. His ghastly appearance, coupled with his choice of weaponry, left upon people a sinister impression. He was clad from neck to waist with jet black leather armor. Weightless spaulders were fastened to his shoulders, the many leather straps hung like feathers from his upper arms. His right arm was protected with a leather vambrace. The left arm no longer required any protection aside from long dark sleeves. Onyx leather gloves adorned both of his hands. Qrow's upper body was armored with a stygian leather chest piece, studded with ebony. Pitch dark belts hung from his hips, carrying pouches filled with spare magazines. His legs were free from burdensome armor, merely clothed with inklike slacks. The deathlike Huntsman wore his ashen tattered cloak over his body, offering protection from suspicious eyes.

They called him a herald of death. Wherever his feet trod, doom was sure to follow. They spread rumors that Qrow had killed his own blood sister, Raven Branwen, after her disappearance. He never bothered to voice his protest. Instead, the quiet Huntsman chose isolation from the apprehensive public. He spent his nights on the outskirts of the village, in the crumbling Branwen manor. His home was the closest to the heart of the forest. At least this way, Qrow was the first line of defense from the creatures of Grimm. He fell asleep each night, listening to the Beowolves howling around his estate. If anything, his presence should strike more fear in Grimm than in man.

Finally, after an eternity of silence had passed, Qrow answered the question.

"I am here to see the girls."

He was uncle to Taiyang's daughters. Despite there being no blood relation, the four-year-old Ruby Rose was always the first to greet Qrow upon his every visit. Not even his frightening appearance and dreadful weapon could scare the silver-eyed cherub. She was completely open with love and affection, always begging her uncle to crouch down until she could kiss his pallid cheeks. Being older by two years, Yang Xiao Long was slightly more reserved with her fondness. She would wait until Ruby had finished wetting Qrow's cheeks before grappling his long legs with a bone breaking embrace. Taiyang would always jokingly warn his eldest daughter that she would eventually succeed in crippling her uncle. This never failed to make the girls giggle madly.

This house was the only place in the whole world that Qrow could go to receive such heart-warming acceptance.

To see this house in such a state sucked the warmth out of his heart.

Taiyang's eyes were filled with accusations. A sweaty hand smeared tangles of blond facial hair away from his mouth. His meaty fingers brushed his cracked, dehydrated lips. When he spoke, his voice was like distant thunder.

"What do you want—" Another coughing fit shook the mountain range. When he caught his breath, he tried again. "What do you want with my daughters?"

The smell of alcohol strengthened with every word. But Qrow acted like he didn't detect it. "I want to check up on them; to see if they're alright." He shrugged his shoulders again, readjusting _Dicter Tawel_ upon his back. A sliver of light glanced off of the arched blade, causing it to glow silver.

"Now, why would you want to do that?" There was no questioning the resentment dripping from Taiyang's lips.

"Because," Qrow narrowed his cardinal eye, "I am their uncle."

A horrible laugh, bitter and contemptuous, shook Taiyang's barrel chest. The crowing continued until the giant was red in the face. When he could finally breathe, his words were more painful than anything Qrow has ever felt. "You are **not** a part of this family."

Qrow bowed his head, hiding his eye behind his bangs.

"You showed up with her white cloak in your arms, smeared red with her blood." Taiyang's voice grew louder with every passing word. "You didn't even stay long enough to see the girls' reactions. You ran away into the night, _leaving me alone when I had to explain to_ _ **Ruby and Yang that their mother was**_ —"

Suddenly, he stopped shouting. His crimson face was drawn tight against his skull, hatred and grief fighting for control of his voice. When he sucked in a shaky breath, Taiyang could only spit out a handful of words.

"You didn't even show up for _her funeral!"_

Every word was like a bullet to Qrow's chest. He held perfectly still, any movement could cause his entire body to collapse upon himself. How could he explain the last two weeks to Taiyang? How could the slayer speak about how he has spent the past fourteen nights in the black forest? How he has taken _Dicter Tawel_ and fought countless hoards of Grimm until the sun rose in the morning? How much he pleaded with the soulless monsters to erase his pain. How not a single creature of Grimm managed to end it? How could he say that every sunrise, he would drag his sullen scythe back to the house of crippling isolation? How could Qrow explain his absence to his brother in blood?

When he thought it was safe to speak, Qrow opened his mouth. "I—I am here now. I want to see the girls."

Taiyang began to rise from his recliner. He planted his feet firmly on the floor. Gripping the sofa arms with his burly hands, he pushed himself up. The recliner creaked loudly as the great weight of his muscular body shifted. His knees popped as he ascended from the chair. As he staggered upright, the floorboards under his bare feet squealed. The crown of Taiyang's head nearly brushed the low ceiling. When he was finally standing at his full height, the room felt like it had shrunk. The tremendous bruiser towered above even Qrow. Cold amethysts burned in their sockets as he glared down at the man he once called brother.

"They are asleep in their beds." The sentence was scarcely a whisper.

"Call them out." A lone crimson eye locked with foggy amethysts. Neither Huntsman broke the stare. The moment stretched on and on.

Finally, Taiyang looked away with a grunt. He turned his head and looked down a hallway. Down the corridor were three doors, two of them leading to bedrooms. The furthest door belonged to the parents. The closest door was the children's bedroom.

The blond Huntsman opened his mouth. "Girls!" he bellowed down the hall. His voice reverberated throughout the entire house. Qrow had almost forgotten how deafening the man could be. It has been quite some time since the supreme sun dragon has raised his voice.

The echo faded and silence fell around the house.

Moments passed and there was no response. Taiyang's brow furrowed tightly. There was no possibility the girls were still asleep, not after the earlier shouting. No, they should have woken up after Qrow kicked the door down. Ruby and Yang had to be awake now, so why weren't they answering?

He sucked in another breath. "Girls!" he shouted again. "Come out of your room!"

A howling wind blew in through the wide hole and rattled the windows. The doorknob to their bedroom did not so much as shake. Were they scared by something? Is that why they were disobeying their father's orders?

His head began to pound in sync with his heartbeat. Each throb drove a serrated knife into Taiyang's brain. He rubbed the sides of his head in tight circles. Black and white stars erupted behind his eyelids as the blond Huntsman massaged his temples. A throaty growl lifted itself out of his esophagus.

For the third time, Taiyang roared. "Your uncle Qrow is here!"

The bellow was so tremendous that it scattered a flock of ravens that had perched on the nearby oak's branches. Their offended cries of _caw-caw_ filled the air. There was no other response. A weight dropped into Taiyang's stomach as he listened to the murder of ravens flying away.

Why weren't the girls answering?

Where was Ruby? Why wasn't she trying to jump into Qrow's arms?

Where was Yang? Why wasn't she trying to break Qrow's legs?

With growing concern, the inebriated man strode past Qrow toward the girls' bedroom door. He kicked his bare feet through the carpet of empty bottles. Glass bottles _clink-clanked_ as they jostled against each other.

Qrow didn't move as the bottles landed against his legs. He watched with one crimson eye as his brother in blood grabbed the doorknob and nearly wrenched the door off its hinges. He listened to Taiyang's audible intake of air when he saw the scene the lay behind the door.

"Oh my god," Taiyang gasped. Qrow stepped behind him and looked inside the bedroom.

Yang and Ruby's bunk-beds were empty. It looked as though a tornado had torn the room apart. The dressers had all been stripped of their drawers, which were scattered around the room. Their shared closet was fully open with coat hangers spread around. Tiny blouses and skirts were strewn around the floor like child-sized soldiers. The box chest that contained their toys was wide open, the top propped against the wall like an awaiting mouth. Inside, less than half their precious belongings remained. Ruby's little red wagon was nowhere to be seen in the room.

The window was wide open. The drapes were fluttering gently in the wind; the curtains reaching inside the empty room like lost hands searching for the missing children.

The father of the children didn't breathe. Amethyst eyes gazed upon the scene, uncomprehending in what he was seeing.

Finally, he stepped into the empty bedroom. His enormous girth nearly filled half the room. He reached inside the closet and pushed aside what clothes remained. Then he crouched down and looked underneath their beds. "Girls?" he pleaded into the darkness.

The man's face drained of all color as realization slowly dawned on him. His red cheeks became paler than his blond hair. He was kneeling on the floor and staring into empty space.

Neither of the men moved for a moment.

Standing in the doorway, Qrow asked, "Where are the girls?"

Mouth wide open, Taiyang looked at Qrow. He didn't answer. Instead, he leaped to his feet and hurtled toward the door. Qrow moved out of the way before the Huntsmen had even finished standing. Like a locomotive train, Taiyang powered through the doorway and into the hallway.

He grabbed the next door down the hall and pushed it open. A humble bathroom with a small bathtub was behind that door. The mirror over the sink reflected the image of a father losing his mind. The girls were not in that room. Taiyang slammed the door shut; the entire house shuddered with the overwhelming force. A hairline crack split down the middle of the door, from top to bottom.

The final door was the master bedroom. For a moment, Taiyang's hand held still over the doorknob. Then he gritted his teeth and pushed it open. He stepped inside his own bedroom, walking as though he were entering a minefield. The reason became clear to Qrow when he followed.

Two pillows sat on the bed, side-by-side.

" _He still hasn't rearranged them…"_ Qrow turned to look away from the bed set for two. Taiyang didn't even look at the lonely bed. He tore through the room, pushing open the closet and ripping open the wardrobe. There was no sign of the girls anywhere. The room looked like it hadn't seen life in weeks.

As he left his bedroom, Taiyang was breathing heavy. Physical exertion had nothing to do with it. Qrow ran up behind him and reached out with his right hand. He grabbed the man by his broad shoulder and asked again.

"Where are the girls, Taiyang?"

Shrugging the hand off his shoulder, Taiyang approached the back foyer. When he pulled open the door that lead to the backyard, he nearly wrenched it off its hinges. He stepped out into the yard, gravel crunching underneath his bare feet. Wild, lilac eyes searched the forest for any sign of the little red wagon. Then he opened his mouth as wide as he could and bawled at the top of his lungs.

Taiyang screamed, "Ruby!" and then, "Yang!" and then, "Girls!" over and over again.

The surrounding woods swallowed his shouts. Gulping down air like he was drowning, Taiyang sank onto his knees. His head spun on a swivel, tear-streaked eyes searching the woodland for any sign of his daughters. His hair flipped around his head like a golden halo. He was hyperventilating so hard that he didn't even hear Qrow approaching from behind.

"Where are your daughters?" His voice was scarcely a whisper.

Taiyang fell forward; his hands gripped the ground. His eyes dropped to the soil. His long blond beard brushed the dirt. Fat tears dripped from his eyes and nose, wetting the Remnant beneath him. His shoulders, broad as a barn door, heaved as he struggled to breathe.

Qrow knelt down and grabbed his brother in blood by the hair. He wrenched the man's head back until they were looking each other in the eye. Grief-stricken lilac locked with wrathful red.

"Where…" He snarled in Taiyang's face, his voice rising with anger. "…are my nieces?"

Hiccups broke the man's words. "…I—I don't— know…"

Seething with fury, Qrow's asked, "What do you mean, you don't know?"

Taiyang rose to his feet and turned toward the back door. He walked through the entryway, heading inside his empty house. Qrow followed behind him, glaring daggers into the broad target in front of him. The mountainous man entered the kitchen, looking around every corner with a dazed expression on his face. Then his lavender eyes settled on the refrigerator.

There was a note attached to the refrigerator by a heart-shaped magnet.

In an instant, Taiyang leaped toward the note. He ripped the paper off the fridge's surface, sending the heart magnet skittering across the floor. Bloodshot eyes struggled to focus as he read the words scrawled across the paper. Qrow watched as the father of two children began to weep in loud whooping cries. Taiyang's arms fell to his sides, the paper dropping from his hand and floating to the floor.

Black gloved hands reached down and gently picked the letter off the floor. When the paper was up to his crimson eye, Qrow read it out loud.

"Dear Daddy," he began, "I found out that Summer Rose was not my real mommy."

Taiyang sank to his knees; the kitchen floor creaked beneath the weight.

"I've found a picture that shows my real mommy. It was a picture from your first wedding. I asked a bunch of people if they knew anything. But nobody told me anything about my real mommy. That's what I've been doing while you have been gone."

At the word "gone", the blond slumped to the floor and lay on his side. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

"I found a clue that can help me find my real mommy. I took Ruby with me so that she wouldn't be alone in the house. The clue points to a chapel in the forest, so that's where I have gone. I took some food and toys so that Ruby won't get sad while we're away. Please don't be mad."

Taiyang was sobbing so hard that his entire body shook. He wrapped his arms around himself.

"We'll be back before the sun goes down. Love you, Yang and Ruby."

The dark-haired Huntsman set the letter on the kitchen counter and looked out a window. The dark of night swallowed up all the light. He turned his scything gaze at the shaking form on the kitchen floor. Anger burned in his chest. Bile rose in his throat. He gritted his teeth and swallowed back the vitriol. Then Qrow seized Taiyang by the shirt. He pulled Taiyang upright and shook the dragon as hard as he could.

"How could you leave the girls alone? What have you been doing for the past two weeks?" he screamed.

Taiyang purpled in the face. He reached with stalwart hands and clutched the scythe-wielder by his shoulders. Even when smashed, the herculean boxer was deceptively fast. His grip was physically powerful enough to break Qrow's scrawny bones like dry twigs. The temperature in the room began to gradually rise, causing beads of sweat to form on Qrow's brow. Taiyang's golden locks started to shine as if ablaze. A white light ignited behind his lilac eyes, like twin lightning bugs inside the sockets. Qrow struggled to escape the tightening grip, panicked thoughts tearing through his head.

" _Taiyang is starting to trigger his Semblance out of anger. If I don't stop him now, he will level the entire house with just the activation."_

His voice rising, Taiyang said, "What have **I been doing?** Where have **you been for the past two weeks?** When I needed you most, **you were nowhere to be found!"** The heat radiating from the mighty beast was becoming unbearable. The vice grip that held the fragile bird only squeezed harder.

Qrow gasped for air, but still managed to cough out, "…Yang and Ruby are your daughters… they're your _responsibility_ … how could you lose them…?"

Flames sparked from Taiyang's open mouth as he screamed, **"I JUST LOST MY WIFE!"**

A rib splintered in Qrow's torso. He screamed in return, _"THEY JUST LOST THEIR MOTHER!"_

Just like that, the Taiyang's anger snuffed out. The blazing temperature plummeted and cool air doused the men like ice-water. The dragon released the crow, staggering backward as though he had been stabbed in the chest. He turned his hands palm up and pressed them against his eyes. A howl like a wounded beast tore out of Taiyang's throat.

"Girls!" He could only cry out again and again. "Come back! _Please come back!"_ He grabbed his head and squeezed, as though he were trying to break his own skull. He released his head and lunged for Qrow again. Instead of grabbing his shoulders, Taiyang dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead against black leather boots.

"You have to help me, Qrow! The girls are out in the forest, all alone!" The once-proud Huntsman could only paw at Qrow's cloak and plead for help. His tears soaked Qrow's boots as he cried.

Qrow violently kicked the Taiyang in the face. The impact ran up his leg. He could feel the fractured ribs rubbing together agonizingly. His breath hitched as he marched toward the hole in the front of the house. He kicked aside empty beer bottles, breaking several of them along the way. Taiyang lumbered after the retreating Huntsman, shouting after him to stop.

Wordless, Qrow exited the house and began to walk away. Far behind him, Taiyang cried out.

"Qrow, you can't leave! I need your help to find my daughters! They're the only thing I have left in this world!"

Stopping, the scythe-wielder turned on his heels. He hollered at the top of his lungs, anger pitched in his words, "If they were the only thing you had left in this world… THEN WHY DID YOU ABANDON THEM?!"

Taiyang dropped to the dirt, bawling, "I'm sorry!" again and again.

Qrow ground his teeth as he stomped to the grieving man. "You didn't take care of your daughters when Summer Rose died! You crawled in a goddamn bottle, leaving Yang and Ruby all alone in the world!" Qrow drew his foot back and kicked Taiyang in the ribs again and again. The crow's breathing snagged with every sentence as his broken rib stabbed him. Taiyang only sobbed harder.

"They didn't just lose their mother, but their father at the same time! You're the reason they're gone! You're the reason why they're lost in the forest with Beowolves! It's your fault that _Yang and Ruby are most likely dead!"_

Taiyang accepted each blow. "They can't be dead! They just can't be!" he screamed, "I can't live without them! I can't—"

A vicious kick impacted his mouth. Blood smeared across Qrow's boot. Taiyang reached up and grabbed the black-clad slayer by his legs. Pressing his face against Qrow's knees, Taiyang wept, "I can't live without my daughters. Please, help me find them."

His last words came out like a solemn promise. "I can't live any longer, not if they're gone."

A silence fell throughout the woodland. It was only disturbed by the hysterical sobbing of a man broken by loss. Breathing bankrupted, Qrow looked down at Taiyang as he pleaded for the life of his daughters. Viscous red fluid ran from the weeping man's cracked lips as his entire body shook.

The moment stretched on as the father of two girls continued to shed tears.

There was no other sound, not even the wind dared to breathe.

Then Qrow turned his crow head at the oak tree beside the house. He spoke in a flat tone at the tall tree.

"Girls, you can come out now."

Taiyang stopped shaking. He stopped crying. He stopped breathing.

In the distance, he could hear the squeaking of a wagon wheel. He struggled to his feet and turned to face the source of the sound.

Little Yang and Ruby came out from behind the tree. The four-year-old Ruby Rose was sitting in her little red wagon. It was being pulled by her elder sister, the six-year-old Yang Xiao Long with blonde twin ponytails. Yang's clothes were absolutely filthy and her hands and knees were caked in mud. Grime was smeared across her pale face. Ruby didn't have a speck of dirt on her. They watched from the distance as their father stood up beside Qrow.

Taiyang looked at his blood brother, his lilac eyes wide. Qrow glanced at the speechless father.

A cardinal red eye locked with astonished amethyst.

He explained with a matter-of-fact tone of voice, as if he were describing the weather. "They were in the forest, wandering in the dark. I was hunting a pack of Beowolves at the time. It was the very same pack of Beowolves that found the girls. They were preparing to kill Yang and Ruby. I arrived just in the nick of time and slew every Grimm before they could reach the girls."

Lavender eyes welled with fresh tears. He wrapped his mighty arms around Qrow's body and pulled him into a gentle embrace. "You saved my daughters."

"And now I'm here to save you, brother."

Taiyang dropped his face into Qrow's chest, grateful tears flowing freely. He repeated "thank you" over and over again. Then he released Qrow and took one step toward his waiting children.

Qrow quickly pulled _Dicter Tawel_ from behind his back and swung the ebony scythe around the front of Taiyang's chest, halting the man's forward progress. Stopping in mid-step, the father turned his head to look at the wielder of the scythe. He searched Qrow's crimson eye for enlightenment.

"What the hell," he growled, "do you think you're doing?" His hands balled into fists mighty enough to uppercut an Ursa Major into the sky.

"You cannot yet have your daughters back. Not after how you abandoned them." The scythe-wielder's tone was stern as he explained himself.

"You've completely shut down ever since Summer passed. I know that you're in pain, but you have to stop focusing on what you've lost and remember what you have."

Qrow gestured toward the girls still standing underneath the oak tree. Taiyang's mouth fell open, but no words came forth to argue.

"You haven't stopped drinking alcohol and you haven't slept in your bed for two weeks. You're falling apart and I can't let the girls see you like this."

The trembling fists slowly loosened.

"Tonight, you almost lost your daughters. It was all because you were too far gone to keep an eye on them. Yang took Ruby and ran away to try and find her mother, all because her father had shut himself away and became a recluse from his own family."

Taiyang's thick bearded chin dropped to his chest. He stared at the ground he stood upon. His bare feet had been cut open when he had stepped through broken glass. Blood oozed out from the wounds and seeped into the dirt.

"I will be taking care of the girls for a short time, Taiyang. I'm giving you three days to dry out and make the house hospitable for children. After three days, I will return with your daughters and you can be a father again."

Standing beneath the oak tree, Yang looked as Qrow held his scythe up to her father's chest. Ruby held her pudgy hands over her silver eyes, incapable of watching. The black-clad slayer spoke them. "Go to your rooms and pack enough clothes for three days. You should bring pajamas and fresh underwear. Don't forget your toothbrushes and favorite toothpaste."

Yang tightened her grip on the handle of Ruby's little red wagon. Then, she pulled on the handle and rolled the wagon with her sister riding inside it. Just before they disappeared inside the house, Qrow said to them, "Please, be careful in the living room. There is broken glass on the floor. Watch where you step." Then the girls entered their home and left the men standing outside.

As soon as the girls were out of earshot, Qrow turned on Taiyang. His voice was as razor-sharp and unyielding as the blade of his scythe.

"When I come back in three days, there will be absolutely no alcohol left in the house. If I find even the slightest hint that you've fallen off the wagon, I will make it my personal mission that you never hold your daughters again. I will take the girls away from Patch and raise them as my own. If I see a single bottle, if I smell it on your breath, if you abandon my nieces, you will never see them again."

Taiyang's entire body seemed to be draining with every passing word. His head drooped as low as his spine would allow. His blond mane was dull and lifeless. Yellow tangled hair fell over his broad shoulders and amethyst eyes. His staggering arms hung limply at his sides. He held as still as a statue.

Finally, he spoke with a low voice, "I'm sorry it came to this."

"I'm sorry it came to this as well."

"Please, keep them happy."

"You have my word that I will do my best."

Shortly after, the girls came out from the house. A pair of backpacks sat in the back of Ruby's little red wagon, along with an assortment of toys. The four-year-old girl was walking beside her sister. Ruby held a stuffed teddy bear in her arms. As soon as they were close enough, the tiny girl bolted straight toward her father.

A mighty hand raised a flat palm at little Ruby Rose. She halted in her tracks. The baby daughter gripped the arm of her favorite teddy bear, Rosy, and held it up toward her father. Qrow stepped between Ruby and Taiyang. He took the teddy bear and handed it to her father.

Her voice was so small. "I'll miss you, Daddy."

Taiyang held his daughter's teddy bear in his arms and nodded like a ghost. He couldn't speak.

Ruby ran toward Yang's side. Qrow sheathed _Dicter Tawel_ behind his back and began to walk the path that lead to his own house. No more words were spoken as he escorted his nieces away from their home.


	11. Requiem for Qrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ghosts of nightmares past haunt a desolate manor. For a one-eyed crow, the heartbreak has only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second Requiem Chapter.

The trip to Qrow Branwen's manor was morbidly quiet, aside from the squeaky wheel on Ruby's little red wagon. Qrow gripped the handle of the wagon and pulled it down the dirt road. Little blonde Yang Xiao Long was nearly sprinting to keep up with the tall man's long strides. Gravel crunched underneath her tiny shoes as she ran alongside the wagon. Turning her pigtailed head, the six-year-old looked inside and watched her baby sister sleeping in the wagon bed. The petite girl was curled up in a ball, draped in a little red riding hood. One of the backpacks the girls had packed was being used as a pillow to rest her head. The other pack was trapped in her minute arms, as if it were a teddy bear. She unconsciously clung to the backpack like it was a life preserver.

Wooden arms stretched overhead from obsidian trees. A cold chill hung in the air, as if trapped by the clutching branches. Low hanging appendages reached toward the hiking trio. Qrow lifted up a black leather glove and gripped branch. With a twist, the branch broke like dry bones. Then the scythe-wielder tossed the twigs over his shoulder, over his niece's wagon. The kindling scattered across the path behind him. He would repeat this same action every twenty meters along the trail. Later in her life, Yang would learn that this act was used to determine if you were being followed on a narrow road.

Amethyst eyes watched the man as he shrugging his shoulders. The ebony-clad Huntsman shifted the length of _Dicter Tawel_ diagonally across his back. The stem of the scythe was as black as midnight; the wicked blade was decorated with a feathery pattern. Aside from the head, the stygian scythe was concealed underneath a woefully threadbare gray cloak. Yang wondered if the cloak used to be any other color before time and combat had weathered it to tatters. Dusky boots crushed brown dry leaves beneath his heel.

His single crimson eye stared up the shadowy path, darting back and forth, searching the ink-stained horizon for any danger. The forest crowded around, cutting line of sight. Qrow's eye scythed through the crevices between the trees. Yang twisted her head to look behind her. The darkness of the night reclaimed the path following them. She stared at the pitch blackness, her heart pounding and her hands sweaty. As her eyes adjusted, she thought she saw—

Qrow's hand landed on her shoulder. She turned away from the watching abyss and looked up at him. He shook his raven crown slowly, telling her not to look. The darkness plays tricks on you, convinces you of danger that may not be present. Then he lifted his left hand and tapped the curved blade of _Dicter Tawel._ It sounded like metal drumming on metal. Do not be afraid, for I am here.

Yang nodded her head and grasped Qrow's right hand. The leather glove was warm. They continued to follow the trail, the vegetation growing closer to the road the deeper they traveled into the forest.

Road conditions began to deteriorate as Qrow's manor became closer. The rotted woods choked the life out of the air. Dry arms hung limply from dead trunks. Brittle hands curled into dying fists. It was as though the very presence of the house was an all consuming virus, long since having destroyed everything around it. The curse that ruined these acres sank into the soil. It was a certain fact that nothing would ever grow here again. Neither flora nor fauna could survive these blighted woods. Even the creatures of Grimm avoided this part of the woodlands.

Tonight would be the first time three people slept here in over twenty years.

A squeaky wheel struck a roadside stone. The wagon jostled and silver eyes popped open with a tiny cry. Ruby swung her arms out and freed herself from the blanket. She looked up and saw only bonelike branches, spearing toward the black sky as if clawing in anguish. Her ashen eyes soaked in the frightening sight. Then the sun rose over her face and smiled down at her with amethyst globes. Golden strands of sunlight cast over the sleepy child.

"Hey Rubbles, we're almost at Uncle Qrow's house." Yang spoke in a chipper voice. The four-year-old squeezed the backpack in her arms and tried to make sense of the world. Why did they have to leave Daddy behind? Why was Uncle Qrow mad at Daddy?

Ruby stretched her hand out past the wagon and grasped at Yang's hanging hand. The blonde sister obliged and wrapped her fingers around the reaching hand. So long as Yang was here, then Ruby wouldn't get too sad.

Sitting up in the wagon, Ruby looked up at Uncle Qrow. All she could see was his old grey cloak, his big scythe called _Di-something Towel_ , and his left hand holding onto the handle of the wagon. His right hand was holding onto Yang's hand. Ruby wanted to hold Uncle Qrow's hand too, so she patted his left hand. He didn't even seem to notice her tiny hands as she slapped at the black leather. Then Ruby remembered that Uncle Qrow couldn't feel anything with his left hand. She sat back down in the wagon and leaned around, trying to look ahead past her uncle.

Up ahead, there was a clearing in the woods. It was about four square acres in size. A grey stone wall circled around the entire perimeter of the clearing. The wall was crumbling apart; whole sections of the barrier had fallen into rubble. In front of the trio was a massive black-iron gate. The iron was darker than obsidian and warped by the curse that held this land. On either side of the gate, twin basalt sculpture of ravens spread their black wings and shrieked forevermore at unwanted trespassers. As the three walked underneath their grotesque eyes, Ruby held Yang's hand tighter. Yang's other hand clutched harder on Qrow's right hand. Qrow squeezed the handle of the wagon with his left hand, the leather creaking.

They entered the clearing and the girls saw Uncle Qrow's house for the first time. It was three stories tall, with brittle dead vines crawling up the sides. The decaying walls were streaked with black moss. Neglect by the only surviving owner had stripped the walls of their former prosperity. They might have been a beautiful color once upon a time. All of the windows were covered up by drapes. Many of them were cracked or completely broken. The black rooftops were missing numerous patches of shingles. The walkway leading up to the house was lined with deceased trees; their ebony branches bore no leaves.

This was no place for any child to be raised.

A bitter smile briefly landed upon the sole inheritor's face. His singular eye glared at the decrepit house, as if willing it to collapse and bury all of its memories underneath the rubble. Then he turned his head and glanced at the girls following behind him. Little Yang shivered; she looked as though she were remembering something frightening. Littler Ruby's eyes were as wide as silver saucers, her tiny mouth opened fully as they approached cracked stone steps. When Qrow stopped at the bottom of the steps, Ruby positively leaped out of the wagon and stared up at the imposing goliath. It was a gothic monolith to the decay of a once wealthy family, now having only one remaining heir to the name. It was a testament to the bitter fate that was entropy.

"Uncle Qrow," the tiny girl's voice was uncharacteristically hushed, "is this your home?"

Nodding his head sourly, the tall slayer only said, "This is my house. I know it's a scary place, but you don't have to be afraid while—"

"It's so cool!" Ruby shrieked at the top of her lungs.

This was not the reaction that Qrow was expecting.

Cherub face practically glowing with enchantment, the petite girl raced up the stairs. Her little red riding hood bounced up and down as she climbed the crumbling steps. Her short black hair swirled around her head as she looked left and right, taking in all the scary sights. She stopped at the top of the steps and wildly gesticulated for her sister and uncle to follow. It was as though she had found a treasure trove. Qrow shook his raven head slowly at the energetic four-year-old. He had forgotten how she was completely immune to horror. After all, Ruby was always the first to greet her fearsome uncle.

From a child's perspective, the big house was full of untold mysteries, of secret rooms, of _je ne sais quoi._

Glancing to his gloved right hand, the leather-clad Huntsman saw that his eldest niece was still holding on. The pigtailed girl shrunk away from the deteriorated mausoleum that loomed before her. Still clutching Qrow's hand, her amethyst eyes glistened and her lower lip trembled. Yang's free hand gripped a blonde pigtail and stuck it into her mouth, sucking on the strands without thinking. Her short legs were quaking unsteadily, knees knocking together.

With a mouth full of her own hair, Yang craned her neck to look up at her formidable uncle. She asked, "Are there spiders inside?"

The one-eyed bird shook his head. He reassured his niece with a soothing voice, "There is nothing living in that house."

Lilac eyes widened with alarm. "Then, what about ghosts?"

The single red eye cast a faraway stare at the house of his ancestors. His voice sounded weary, as if he were preparing to face unsavory in-laws. "The phantoms in these walls have no quarrel with you or your sister." This seemed to accomplish very little on the _'make Yang happy'_ front.

Trying again, Qrow clarified that, "The lingering shades of the past have no reason to be angry with you girls." Judging by Yang's upset expression; the monster slayer was not a very good babysitter.

Finally, "There is no such thing as ghosts."

Amethyst orbs narrowed at his singular cardinal eye. There was very little trust left in the six-year-old. Still, she walked forward and began to climb the weather-beaten stones. Qrow released her hand and watched as she made her way toward Ruby. Then he bent down and picked up the red wagon with both hands.

When the three of them were gathered on the veranda, Qrow fetched an iron ring out of a pocket. Numerous skeleton keys jangled from the black circlet. Ruby was nearly vibrating as she stood in front of the entryway. Yang wasn't quite sure why Qrow was bothering with keys. It looked as though the ebony wooden door would fall over if she so much as yanked on the curved handle. There were cracks inside the doorframe and the brass hinges were green. Little Ruby ran up to the door and tried to look closely through the cracks. One silver eye squeezed shut and the other peered into the darkness beyond.

A gnarled key was inserted into a chipped hole and the tumblers fell with a grinding clack. When Qrow pulled the front door open, the hinges protested with a deafening creak. It sounded as though the rotten wood was splintering even as the heavy door scraped along the floor. The noise echoed as it bounced through the interior of the house. The inside was an abyss as black as the starless sky. Everything just beyond the doorway was lost to the atramentous gloom. Qrow stepped into the pitch blackness, his dark attire concealing him almost instantly. For a moment, there was only a bloody eye bobbing in the umbrage.

Then, with a snap, a harsh yellow flare ignited. The darkness was cast back and revealed a narrow entry hall with a threadbare blackish carpet. Qrow stood inside, holding a burning lantern in his left hand. The light from the flame cast his gaunt features in harsher contrast. His hollow cheeks nearly became empty holes and his sunken eye sockets were black caves. The red of his right eye was visible even in the cavernous puncture. The lantern glow reflected off the stygian steel of _Dicter Tawel_. The sight of the deathlike reaper would have sent any of the other village girls screaming into the night.

Instead, the sisters appreciated Qrow's presence as he welcomed them into his house.

As the trio trode through the belly of the manor, the wooden floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Qrow found two bronze candlesticks and lit their wicks. Then he handed them to his nieces and told them not to run through the house. If they ran too quickly, then the tiny flames would be snuffed and they would be lost to the darkness. Then he gave them the task of lighting every candlestick on the walls and on every table. He followed behind the girls as they explored the house, room by room. Whenever there was a candle too high for them to reach, their uncle would light it for them. Ruby tackled the chore with gusto, the silver-eyed bursting with excitement as she entered each room. She would inevitably run from candle to candle, accidentally snuffing out her own timid light time and time again. Yang never let Ruby out of her sight, but her amethyst eyes were watching out for any sudden movements or ancient angry ancestral in-laws. Every time a wind drifted in through a cracked window, the low moaning would send the elder sister simpering. Each room they exited was left illuminated by candlelight.

Tiny feet pattering on the floorboards as the red-cloaked child raced down a hallway. The sound was something that Qrow had thought would never grace these halls again. She nearly left her uncle's sight as she bowled into the lounge. The interior of this room was furnished with a _bonging_ grandfather clock, a dust-coated couch, two moth eaten throne chairs facing each other, a mahogany coffee table between the royal seats, and a grand fireplace. The centerpiece was the table, with furniture on each side and the fireplace close enough to warm the guests. Yang noticed that there were two porcelain tea cups on the table, sitting just in front of each throne chair.

One cup was coated in dust.

There were no candles in this room. As the girls watched, Qrow approached the fireplace and opened a compartment just to the side. He retrieved a bundle of freshly cut logs and tossed them inside the hearth. Within moments, the dry wood was set ablaze and the entire room was filled with flickering amber light. The furniture cast deep shadows into the corners of the room. Ruby's colorless eyes reflected the glowing sparks that leaped into the air. The warmth soaked into her bones. The chime of the grandfather clock filled her ears. Her eyelids began to flutter. Qrow opened the chute and watched as smoke rose out of the rooftop chimney for the first time in ages.

The last room the girls found was the child bedroom. They stood in the narrow hall, just outside the closed door. There was a heavy lock on the door, broken by blunt force trauma. For a moment, the cadaverous slayer was as still as black granite. His scarlet eye was fixated upon the ecru door, as if in a trance. Breaths were short and shallow, nostrils flaring ever so slightly. Lips were pursed tight enough to turn them white. His right hand twitched and brushed his right cheek. He hadn't even realized that he was holding his own face. Qrow shook his wasted body one time, breaking free from the clutches of ghosts past.

The door handle turned with difficulty. Age had rusted the cold metal. With a firm twist, the door handle gave. A chattering creak echoed down the dimly lit hallway. The door swung outward, causing Qrow to have to step back to open it entirely. It only made sense the door swung out, otherwise the hinges would have to be on the inside of the room. If the hinges were on the inside, they could be tampered with by prisoners. These thoughts were old news for the dark Huntsman. They had occurred to him many times in his years spent living alone in this house.

Yang led Ruby inside the child bedroom. It was so dark that they couldn't see a thing. Their uncle stepped past them and maneuvered through the shadows with familiar ease. The girls heard the rasp of curtains being moved. Then moonlight poured inside and illuminated the bedroom. Uncle Qrow stood in window, his emaciated frame silhouetted by the light of the cold Moon.

The first thing Ruby noticed was that there were two twin-sized beds.

The first thing that Yang noticed was the bars over the window.

There was no other furniture in the room. The beds took up most of the space, even when they were in opposite corners of the room. A simple iron-wrought chandelier hung from the plaster ceiling, holding merely twin candles. The only decoration was a ratty carpet in the middle, just large enough for two children to sit upon it.

Ruby broke the silence when she asked with a voice so innocent, "Whose room is this?"

A wiry smile split the white mask over her uncle's face. "This room used to be mine."

"Why did you have two beds?"

The scarlet eye closed. "That's because I wasn't the only one who slept here. I used to have a sibling." He opened his eye and looked at the sisters at his feet. "I had a twin sister."

"You're talking about my mother." Yang said in a quiet voice.

Qrow looked at her with a wide eye. Surprised scarlet locked with hard amethyst.

"How much do you know about her?" he was careful to avoid saying her name.

Yang looked down at her feet, blonde pigtails drooping. "I asked everyone I could for anything they knew. Nobody wanted to tell me anything. The only thing I learned was that Daddy was on the same team as my mother and Ruby's mommy. You were also on the same team."

Tiny hands reached into her back pocket and pulled a crinkled piece of paper out. She held it up toward her uncle. The tall man reached down and gingerly plucked the scrap from her hand. He lifted it up to his eye and sucked in a short breath.

It was a photograph of Taiyang's first wedding.

Four familiar faces smiled out of the window to the past. It had been a bright and sunny day, with white clouds floating over the wedding ceremony. The chapel in the background was the same one where Qrow had found Yang and Ruby in the forest. In the picture, the newlyweds were standing on the top of the stone stairs leading to the chapel. Above their heads was a tall arch decorated with beautiful white roses, handpicked by the maid of honor. The bride and groom held each other's hands, the picture of matrimonial bliss. On the steps beneath the bride and groom, their best man and maid of honor stood in opposite corners and held matching bouquets of flowers.

Qrow saw his own face, a shade less pale and cheeks slightly fuller. His raven hair was slicked down by copious amounts of oil. Both of his crimson eyes were looking off-screen, acting as if he wanted to be anywhere else. He wore a white tuxedo, which hilariously contrasted his normal attire entirely. Qrow remembered that it was uncomfortably tight and constricted his movements. He had been trying his best not to smile for the camera.

Wearing a simple peach-colored dress, Summer Rose was positively beaming with unrelenting joy. She was smiling as though it were her own wedding, although that wouldn't come two more years. The young woman's cherub face was flushed with rosy cheeks. Bright silver eyes glistened with tears, held back only by sheer force of will. They would spill as soon as the picture developed. Long black hair tumbled messily over her shoulders. She had never been too concerned with her hair. The red lipstick seemed out of place on Summer's face. She would never willingly wear lipstick unless it was for something very important to her.

Taiyang Xiao Long stood beside his bride. His wedding tuxedo was one of the largest ever designed. The herculean groom had been resisting the urge to flex his muscles. The expensive suit would have burst from the juggernaut force. The hulking behemoth was wearing the largest grin of them all, competing with Summer and winning just by virtue of width. Back then, the man's beard had yet to grow, so seeing Taiyang's chiseled chin again was a bit of a shock for present Qrow. The groom held both of his bride's hands inside of his own massive grip.

Traditionally, brides wore white lace dresses with transparent veils to cover their faces. There was nothing traditional about the bride's appearance. Raven Branwen's bridal gown was burgundy and hugged her every curve. Black feathers were sewn into the sleeves and into the frills of the wedding dress. Her lips were painted stygian and her nails were charcoal. In the past, Raven Branwen had a rebellious haircut. One half of her head was buzzed short. The other half was short and punk. Her crimson eyes glared straight into the camera, as if challenging everyone. There was no mistaking the fierce smirk on her wicked face. Raven was leaning toward the wall of muscle that was her husband, her hands lost within Taiyang's colossal grasp.

They had been so happy, but for such a short time. How was it possible? That the nightmare of Raven's past could have done so much damage to her marriage? Was there anything that Qrow could have done to save his twin? Could he even blame Raven for suffering her trauma so quietly until the day it all fell apart? How could Qrow be angry at his sister for letting the past hurt her so much, when he was still sleeping at ground zero of the ordeal? The past six years, he had been struggling with these same questions.

"Uncle Qrow?"

The timid voice snapped the sable slayer out from the past. He resurfaced so swiftly that he lost his balance. Stumbling back, he almost knocked little Ruby to the ground. The crumpled up photograph fell from his fingers and fluttered to the floor. The pigtailed sister picked up the paper. For a moment, the dark bringer didn't speak. When he found his voice again, it was shaking ever so slightly.

" _Where_ did you find that?" Qrow tried to keep his storming emotions out of his words. It didn't work, and little Yang flinched at the edge in his voice. Ruby stuck a finger in her mouth and began to suck on the stubby digit.

Trembling, the young blonde stuttered, "Daddy broke a picture frame a little while ago. It was a picture of Ruby's mom. Daddy didn't notice, so I picked up the broken glass so that Ruby wouldn't get hurt." Qrow stiffened when he heard his blood brother's neglect. Yang continued with, "I found this picture behind Mommy's picture. I almost asked Daddy about it, but I was afraid he would get upset." Moist lilac eyes stared at the picture in her hands. She was looking at the bride and her bridesmaid. "I remembered that this church was somewhere in the forest. I thought I could find it and maybe I could…"

The tiny voice dropped to a whisper, then ceased to be heard. Yang was clutching the picture to her blouse while looking at the floor. Little Ruby walked behind her big sister and wrapped her arms around the downcast girl's waist. It wasn't difficult to see the whole picture.

Kneeling down before of his eldest niece, Qrow reached out and put his right hand upon her golden hair. He stroked the yellow strands that flowed from her crown. "You thought you could find a clue to lead you to your mother."

"And I did." The young blonde lifted her head and looked straight into her uncle's crimson eye. "You saved me. You can help me find my mother."

Standing abruptly, the deathlike Huntsman towered over his petite niece. Wordless, he turned and began to walk toward the open door. His ratty cloak billowed behind him as he made his retreat.

"Wait!"

Yang's shrill cry caused him to pause. He put his left hand on the doorframe and looked over his shoulder. "I cannot help you find my sister. Forget about her." Then he slipped out of the child bedroom and into the hallway. The pitter-patter of tiny shoes followed him.

"I need to find my mother! If she comes back, then Daddy will get better!" She sounded so certain of this. Qrow knew that he wasn't going to be able to run away from her. He shortened his strides and led his stubborn niece away from the bedroom.

When they were back in the lounge, the resigned slayer stopped. He took a seat in one of the throne chairs and placed his face in his hands. Immediately, Yang was beside him with her tiny lungs huffing. She stood between him and the roaring fireplace. The flickering light washed across her golden hair, casting fiery scarlet upon her silhouette. She glared at her silent uncle and spoke between gulps of air. "You will help me find my mother." The conviction in her voice was ironclad.

Lifting his pallid face from his hands, the brooding scythe wielder finally addressed his niece with a single word.

"No."

For an instant, Qrow saw a splash of crimson flash across Yang's amethyst orbs. She clenched her teeth and balled her fingers into tight fists. Huffing and puffing, the petite dragon screwed up her face into an expression of pure outrage. The flames in the fireplace seemed to cool in comparison to the building tantrum.

"You know where my mother is." The accusation in her voice was too familiar. Taiyang had used that same tone when they first spoke earlier this night. This debate would only end in heartbreak.

"I do not know where my sister is." It was an honest truth. Raven's Semblance made it impossible to track her movements. By the time rumors reached Qrow in Patch, they were long since obsolete. Trying to track her down was like catching a lightning bug in the distance. The past six years have been an effort in futility.

"You're lying." She was beginning to sound desperate. Her temper was beginning to peak.

"I am not lying. But even if I did know where my sister was, I don't think I could bring her back."

"Why can't you bring her back?" her shrill tone was much like a boiling tea kettle.

"Because Yang, _there is nothing keeping her away_."

In an instant, the scalding hot blood in Yang's veins turned to ice-water. She started to comprehend the implication of Qrow's words. Then she forced herself to cease that train of thought.

The young girl stamped her feet and rasped, "You're useless." The monster slayer flinched as if he had been struck. Not even the phantasm pain in his left arm could compare.

Watching Yang lose her temper was like seeing a wild daffodil wilt. She crossed her hands in front of her chest and grabbed her arms, squeezing them tightly. She bowed her head, her chin on chest, and began to heave deep breaths. The hysterical girl doubled over her stomach. She fell on her knees and cracked her head on the floor, casting her blonde hair across the floor. Qrow leaped out of his chair and reached for his niece, concern etched upon his haggard face.

As soon as his hand touched the seizing girl, she screamed out loud.

"Don't touch me! You're useless! You can't help anyone!"

The petite ball of odium fixated one hateful eye upon him. Qrow's breath hitched as if he had been stabbed. It was the color of blood. It was the color of her mother's eyes.

"I will find my mother, no matter what I have to do!"

The determination in Yang's voice sounded too familiar in Qrow's ears. He has had far too much experience with this. He has heard that same tone in his sister's voice, usually just before doing something self-destructive. This had to stop, right here.

Yang had to be stopped right now.

Qrow grabbed his niece by the shoulder with his left hand and hoisted her into the air. She shrieked and thrashed, striking his left arm. Her outrage echoed down the halls. The frenzied blonde grabbed his arm and dug her nails into the clothed limb. He did not release her, not even when she swung her foot at his face. Qrow simply let the berserker strike him with everything she had. His Aura protected him from the feeble attacks. Yang punched him, kicked him, spat in his eye, and screamed bloody murder until she was blue in the face.

This continued until the burning logs in the fireplace had been reduced to smoldering ashes. The lounge room was as dark and cold as it had been when they first entered the house. The only sound was that of the grandfather clock chiming.

When there was nothing left, Yang resorted to glaring at her uncle with her mother's eyes. Crimson locked with crimson. She seethed because her throat was too dry to speak. Finally, the tight grip that restrained the wasted berserker was released. She landed on her feet, then collapsed onto her knees; then she fell forward upon her hands, and to conclude laid flat on the floor with her cheek on the wood.

Still, Yang did not stop glaring up at the monstrous slayer.

The scythe-wielder reached behind his back. _Dicter Tawel_ dropped to the ground, the blade clattered against the floorboards when it fell over. The source of her anger sat down on the floor, legs crossed in meditation. He gazed down upon the prone form of his anguished niece. Qrow held as still as a statue. He spoke with an exhausted voice.

"Yang, your stubbornness will get you killed."

A wheezing reply, "I don't care."

"Well there are people that do care. I am one of them."

"You don't care!" she began to cough.

"I do care, and that's why I have to put an end to this."

"I'm not going to stop, no matter what you say."

A single crimson eye closed as the man inhaled a slow breath. "Why did you run out in the woods, in the middle of the night?"

"I found a clue! I had to follow it!"

"And when you followed it, what did you find?"

"The church was rubble. And there was…" her voice trailed off.

"There was a pack Beowolves living there." Qrow finished her sentence. The twin crimson eyes broke contact with the single cardinal eye.

"What do you think," The emaciated envoy of death breathed deeply, "would have happened if I hadn't arrived."

"I would have died." The obstinacy in her tone was ironclad. She was stubbornly determined to cease caring about her life.

"You're forgetting something."

"What!" she snapped.

"You had Ruby with you."

The whole world froze over in that moment of realization. Yang didn't move an inch of her body. Her eyes widened, the crimson draining from her orbs. Her young face became sheet white. Her tiny mouth was open, but no words formed on her tongue. Yang couldn't breathe.

Leaning forward, the weary warrior stared directly into the comatose girl's amethyst eyes. There was no sympathy in that cardinal glower. He was not speaking to her like she was a bratty child. This was no insignificant issue, not with what was at stake. Right now, these words needed to be said no matter how young and ill-prepared the girl was.

"You did not simply endanger your life tonight. You almost cost Ruby her own as well. Do you know why she went with you?"

There was no reply.

"It is because Ruby _trusted you."_

The body on the floor twitched.

"And you betrayed that trust when you carried Ruby into the jaws of death."

Tiny fingers curled into limp fists.

"What would you have done, Yang…"

There was so much hanging in the balance. This moment would change the course of Yang's entire life.

"…If you had survived tonight…"

Everything was resting upon Qrow's next three words.

"…And Ruby hadn't?"

Hush.

It started slowly, then snowballed into more.

Her whole body started trembling, then her tiny shoulders began to quake. Tears welled up in the six-year-old girl's eyes. Then they poured out and rolled down her face, pooling on the floor beneath her cheek. She opened her mouth fully, a low cry leaking out from a tight throat. Then she wailed as if she were watching it happen, the full weight of her transgressions coming down upon her like a tidal wave.

The scenario that Qrow proposed was cruel. It was as heartless as the creatures of Grimm. She would never fully recover from this night. Always, in the back of her mind, this thought would lay lurking. In Yang's future moments of weakness, she would recall Qrow's words and relive this anguish. The overwhelming horror of this possibility was more than the elder sister could bear.

Yang would never, ever lead her sister into danger again.

When the pitiful cries began to taper off, Qrow placed his right hand on the weeping girl's back. He rubbed small circles across her shaking shoulders. He consoled his grief-stricken niece, whispering comforting platitudes into her tiny ears. The grown-man regretted her pain, but not the cause of it. He only wished that someone had done the same for his twin sister.

At last, the lounge fell silent and the upset girl was spent again. Gently, as though picking up a broken baby bird, the one-eyed crow picked her up. She did not struggle this time, but hung limply in his hands. He pressed her against his chest, his left arm supporting her bottom. She weakly wrapped her short arms around his neck and buried her tear-stricken face into his shoulder.

"Come," the monster slayer whispered soothingly, "let us return to Ruby."

Yang sniffled in agreement.

Qrow carried his niece toward the bedroom. As they passed down the hallway, Yang whispered timidly.

"Can you please tell me my mother's name?" She sounded apologetic.

"Not until the day you stop looking for her." His voice was gentle, but stern.

When they reentered the child bedroom, they found Ruby sitting face-first in a corner. She had her pudgy hands pressed against her ears and her silver eyes shut tight. It was apparent that Ruby had heard her sister's screams. In a miserable coincidence, Ruby was crouching in exactly the same position that Qrow himself had; back when he was a child living in this damnable house. Hearing the screams of their sisters had that effect upon siblings.

Seeing Ruby alive had a reinvigorating effect upon Yang. She started to push against Qrow's shoulders, trying to get to the ground. The tall man obliged and dropped his niece from his hold. She landed behind Ruby's fetal form. When she touched the still child, the four-year-old girl turned her head. Silver eyes landed on amethyst. Immediately, the younger sister sprung from the corner and tackled Yang into a vice-like hug.

"Yang, I thought you were dead!"

Yang returned the hug and rubbed wet cheeks with her living sister. When she opened her mouth, her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry, Ruby."

The precious jewel looked at gold and amethyst with silver.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry for making you sad. I won't ever make you sad again."

The ebony-clad Huntsman stood in the doorway, watching the sisters embrace. Then they released each other and walked to the little red wagon sitting in the corner. They grabbed their respective backpacks out of the wagon and opened them. When they produced pajamas, Qrow took that as his cue to give them privacy. He closed the door gently and walked away.

When their uncle returned, the sisters were dressed for nighttime. A glass of water was held out for Yang. Uncle Qrow instructed her to swallow slowly, her throat would be sore. As the elder sister sipped with parched lips, Uncle Qrow picked up little Ruby and set her on a bed. The four-year-old dove underneath the covers and the six-year-old joined her shortly after in the same bed. The second bed didn't get much use back in the days of Qrow's youth. It was always easier to sleep with family when darkness was banging on the door.

Uncle Qrow picked up the empty glass and began to leave the room.

Then Ruby called out, "Wait, I can't sleep!"

Uncle Qrow stopped himself just outside the door and turned around. He returned to the bed and sat on the end. He looked at his youngest niece and asked, "What can I do to help you sleep?"

"I need a kiss goodnight."

"Didn't you get enough from your sister?"

"Those are sissy kisses, they don't count! I need a grown-up to kiss me goodnight." The silver-eyed youth spoke with a huff, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Sorry, I didn't know that was how it worked." He spoke with a matter-of-fact tone. Uncle Qrow leaned over the sheets and pressed his lips against Ruby's forehead.

Ruby looked at her uncle with a funny expression. "Didn't you ever get goodnight kisses?"

"My sister was the only one who has ever given me goodnight kisses." Honestly, there have been only two women who have ever touched Qrow with their lips.

"Didn't your Mommy or Daddy give you kisses?"

Uncle Qrow was beginning to realize that he had fallen into a trap. He would have to answer every one of the inquisitive girl's questions before she could fall asleep. If what he heard was true about little kids, they have _a lot of questions_.

Settling in for the long haul, the slender slayer glanced around the room as if collecting memories from thin air. "I didn't know my father. He left before my sister and I were born. My mother wasn't—"

There was so many words that Qrow could use to describe Mother Branwen. Not enough of them were appropriate for the girl's to hear. He picked his words carefully, trying not to reveal too much.

" _My_ mother wasn't a loving mother. She raised us in this house, but only because she needed someone to… share in her."

"I don't get it."

He forced a smile to sooth the girl. "My father left because he couldn't take care of my mother. She was a very sick woman. She needed someone to share in her sickness."

"Did she have a cold?"

Shaking his raven head slowly, he answered, "She wasn't sick with a virus. She was sick in her head. Mother could go from happy to sad without anything happening. She didn't spend her happy times with us though. We were only in her way. She would put my sister and I in this room if she ever felt like it."

Yang eyed the bars over the windows and the heavy lock on the doorknob. A picture began to form in her head, and it wasn't a pleasant one. A deep pit formed in the blonde's stomach. _Was this the life that my mother had grown up with_? What kind of woman did this to her own children?

"Mother only got more sick in the head as we grew up. She would get angrier faster and faster. I think it was a blessing when I found her—"

_Hanging two feet above the ground. Neck roped to ceiling. Tears spilled down from crimson eyes. Fetched key from her pocket. Didn't let her down. Ran to another locked room. Opened it and let Raven out. Told Raven the news. Cried together. No sadness. Only dreams come true. Prayers answered._

None of this was spoken, only replayed in the mind's eye of a grown man.

"How did you find her?" Ruby's tiny voice snapped Qrow out of his reverie. He answered without thinking.

"Mother was gone."

Silver eyes lowered to the bed sheet. "You lost your mommy too."

Stomach twisting into a knot, Qrow realized that he had carelessly maneuvered the conversation in the wrong direction. _There is too much pain lingering in this house_. Hadn't Qrow promised that he would keep Taiyang's daughters happy? It was too late now, there was nothing he could do to keep the girl from thinking about her own mother.

The tiny brunette whispered, "I feel sorry that your mommy died too."

Bitter thought: _"Well, I guess that makes one person."_

"Maybe our mommies are in heaven together?" She sounded hopeful.

" _Not if there's such a thing as a benevolent god."_

But instead of that, "All mommies go to Heaven. It's a very happy place. Summer Rose is looking down on you, right now."

A weak smile trembled on the lips of his youngest niece. Her silver orbs began to glisten. Her itty bitty voice was broken. "I—I miss my—my mom—mommy." She began to shake softly, the day's events were so tiring that she couldn't muster the energy for a proper cry.

There were no words capable of describing how horrible Qrow felt. The whole night has been one heartbreak after another. The entire family was breaking to pieces with a cavernous hole left in the middle of their hearts. Only a mother could fill this hole and make their lives normal again.

Yang fired an angry glare at her mortified uncle. Her own eyes were filling with tears. But she couldn't let herself cry anymore, not when her sister needed her. She wrapped her arms around little Ruby's trembling body.

When she began to sing to her sister, it was the most beautiful sound that Qrow has ever heard.

"Don't worry, I've got you;  
Nothing will ever harm you.  
I'm close by, I'll stay here;  
Through all things, I will be near."

The monster slayer stood up and began to walk away. He could not provide the love that a sister could.

"Close your eyes,  
Don't you cry.  
Love's around you;  
In time, you'll fly."

He stood in the doorway as the third stanza began. Yang forced herself to sound happier than any of them felt. She held her sister's shoulders and began to bounce on the bed in beat with the song. Ruby held on to her sister and bounced along, eyes still shedding silver tears. Her little lips moved in synch with Yang's, wordlessly singing along.

"Don't you worry about the dark,  
I will light up the night with the love in my heart.  
I will burn like the sun,  
I will keep you safe and warm."

The song was one that Qrow has heard once before. It was back when Yang was an only child. Summer had not yet married Taiyang, but she still arrived every day to help the ill-equipped father care for the growing baby girl. Qrow lent a hand whenever at all possible. The father was enormously grateful for his teammates. The last time he heard this song, the singer was Taiyang himself.

"Like the smell of a Rose on a Summer's day,  
I will be there to take all your fears away.  
With a touch of my hand,  
I will turn your life to gold."

This song was a spoken promise, a cheerful oath, to always provide unconditional love. It was the sort of love that Qrow has only seen possible with family. Back when the man was a child, he would never have suspected that his family would one day be six members strong.

"With a touch of my hand,

I'll turn your life to g—gold."

Qrow could still hear them sniffling as he closed the door.

Now he needed to prepare for the hard part.

* * *

Qrow entered the lounge room. He opened the log safe and retrieved another bundle of firewood and restarted the exhausted hearth. Within moments, the room was filled with the crackling of a roaring fire. Shadows sprang into the furthest corners of the room as the wood burned. Then he picked up both porcelain teacups and carried them into the center of the house.

The kitchen was one of the only rooms that was regularly used. Qrow approached the sink, dragging his feet wearily. He twisted a knob beneath the faucet. Water began to cough out in sputters. He rinsed both teacups beneath the water and then set them beside a sugar bowl. He grabbed a kettle and partially filled it with water from the tap. Then he put the kettle on top of the kitchen stove and turned on the gas. A box of matches sat beside the stove. Qrow grabbed the matchbox and struck a spark. A moment later and a blue flame was burning beneath the kettle.

As the water boiled, the man of the house walked to a wooden cabinet. Within the breakfront was a variety of ingredients and spices and teas. The last item was what Qrow retrieved. He picked two flavors out of the wide selection. Peppermint and chamomile. By this time, the water had just begun to boil. With clockwork precision, the tired man swept by the stove, picked up the kettle, and deposited just the right amount of boiling water to each teacup. He left the bags of tea into the cups. He lifted the lid of the sugar bowl and picked up two cubes. Both of them were deposited in the teacup with peppermint. The chamomile received no additives. He retrieved two porcelain saucers, their patterns matching the teacups. He removed the tea bags after they had finished flavoring the water.

Carrying both teacups and saucers, the willowy Huntsman reentered the lounge. Qrow put a porcelain saucer on the table, in front of one of the throne chairs. He set the teacup of chamomile on the saucer, both items within hands reach from the royal seat. Then he dragged his exhausted body to the other chair and set the second saucer on the table. The peppermint teacup sat on the saucer. Finally, he took a seat in the large throne and leaned back. Qrow did not drink from the cup in front of him.

The warmth of the fire swept over the weary bag of bones. The metronome of the grandfather clock dragged the slayer of monsters to a fitful slumber.

* * *

The clatter of porcelain woke him up.

A single crimson eye opened just a slit. The fire had died down to smoldering embers. By the time on the clock, only three hours had passed. It was now the darkest part of the night, just before the sunrise.

_Clink._

He held perfectly still, listening for it again.

_Clink._

Qrow sat up in his throne and picked up the teacup before him. Lifting it by his fingertips, he pressed his lips to the porcelain and took a sip. The peppermint was cold and sweet, exactly how he enjoyed it. He held the cup by his fingertips and looked across the long table.

She was sitting in the throne chair, opposite of Qrow. She set her cup of chamomile onto the porcelain saucer with a _clink_. Then she crossed her legs and looked across the table.

Twin crimson eyes met a single cardinal eye.

Qrow Branwen greeted her with a civil, "Hello, sister."

Raven Branwen replied with, "Hello, brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is titled: Requiem for Raven.


	12. Requiem for Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The many regrets of Raven Branwen. How could one broken bird bear so much guilt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the third and final chapter of the Prelude to Act 1.

They sat in their throne chairs with a long table between them. They stared at each other perfect silence. Brother and sister, having not seen one another in a number of years. They shared many of the same features, being fraternal twins. Pitch-dark hair, ivory skin, and crimson eyes. In the case of Qrow Branwen, he has a single ruby eye remaining. The left socket was concealed with an eye patch. The right eye was trained on his sister as she watched him from across the table. What Qrow saw told him so much about how his sister has fared.

Raven Branwen was much different compared to the last time he saw her. The past six years have not been kind to his prodigal sister. It was apparent that she had lost weight, the black clothes she wore hung loose on her shrunken remains. Her face was so haggard that her cheeks were thin and concave. Dark bags hung beneath her eyes. She wore fatigue like raccoon mask. Her ebony hair was no longer cut short as it had been in the past. The raven locks had grown long, cascading over her bony shoulders like a crude oil spill. Unkempt strands fell around over her lean face, framing her pale features like a film noir. The only color was red; twin globes peering out from behind a gloomy velvet curtain.

Tipping the porcelain cup into black stained lips, Raven sipped the chamomile tea prepared for her. She sat the drink onto a ceramic saucer. A light _clink_ sounded. One leg lifted up and crossed over the other. She lifted her weary eyes from the table and cast her gaze to her brother.

Twin crimson eyes met a single cardinal eye.

Qrow broke the silence with a cordial greeting. "Hello, sister."

Raven returned the salutation. "Hello, brother."

Then they both drank from their respective teacups and returned to sitting in quietude. As far as affectionate words spoken between long-estranged siblings went, it was a start.

Running an absentminded fingertip along the rim of her empty cup, Raven murmured in a faraway tone, "You made my favorite tea without any additives, just the way I like it. You knew that I was coming, didn't you?"

Qrow leaned over and dropped his elbows on his knees. He rested his chin on his wrists. "I could feel you approaching when you were miles out." He tapped his chest over his heart, and then pointed at hers.

They had been nigh inseparable in their youths. They were dependent on each other for so many things, but most of all it was emotional support. The nightmare that was their blackened childhood had stunted their ability to express their emotions. Nobody but their other could understand what they were feeling. It was a special ability they shared, a scarcely understood connection between misunderstood twins. Even if they were in different classes on the opposite sides of school grounds, the twins were mysteriously linked. When one felt overwhelmed by all of the social contact, the other would leave their classmates and run to the other's aid. When one began to suffer anxiety attacks, the other would be there to provide an anchor. When one was having nightmares in the dark of night, the other would break curfew and sneak into the opposite sex dorms to hold a trembling hand. When asked how they knew about the other's emotional state, they would reply simultaneously.

_Because we know._

"Then you know what I came here for." Her voice trailed off, implication hanging on the period.

_So, this is how Raven wants to play it? Very well, let the enigmatic games began._

"I know exactly why you are here. But the real question is, do you know why you're here?" Qrow spoke cryptically.

Crimson eyes narrowed and black painted lips pursed tightly. At first, she didn't speak. Then she finally allowed, "I had a terrible feeling that something was about to happen." She drummed her fingers on the lacquered mahogany table, impatient to learn about current events.

"What was your feeling about?" Qrow knew that he could absolutely not tell his sister everything, not right away. As soon as Raven had what she needed, there would be nothing to keep her around. She would open another portal with her Semblance, and then be seen nevermore.

Dealing with Yang's stubborn attitude was only a beginner's course compared to Raven. As bullheaded as the pigtailed blonde had been, the young girl was still nowhere near as difficult as her mother was. Getting his sister to accept the _quid pro quo_ exchange of information was just the first step. Qrow would not divulge any more information than his sister did. If she wanted to know what happened this night, then Raven would have to trade for it.

He could feel the frustration vibrating from his twin.

Staring into the bottom of her cup, Raven spoke hesitantly. "I felt as though there was… someone… in danger. I don't know anything else, but I had a feeling that you were involved somehow."

"Don't lie to me, you know it doesn't work." His cardinal eye fell to the floor where he had dropped _Dicter Tawel_ a few hours past. The plutonian scythe remained still on the floor of the lounge. The edge in his voice was as sharp as his weapon.

Qrow returned his stare to his sister and said, "You know who was in danger, so say who it was."

A tense silence fell between the twins. It stretched on and on, the seconds marked by the grandfather clock. The pendulum sounded like rifle fire in the sepulcher.

"…Yang…"

A low whisper floated into his ears. He nodded his head slowly. There was so much riding on this conversation, the last hope of a crumbling family.

"The danger was five hours ago. It was not witnessed by anyone. Even if someone had, news that occurs on this island doesn't leave it. It is completely impossible that you could have learned about it." Qrow took a sip of his peppermint tea. He held the teacup by the tips of his fingers.

"So then, how did you know to come back?"

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed into slits. She clenched her teeth and spoke with a threatening tone. "Don't say it."

"The reason you knew that Yang was in danger was because of…"

"Don't you dare—"

"…your maternal instincts."

Frustration ignited like a gas leak, transforming into a burning anger. Qrow could feel her rage through the connection they shared. Raven slammed her fist down on the table. The cup of chamomile clattered in its saucer. It came too late and the concept was out in the open. Qrow understood that there were invisible bonds between people. It has been said that a parent can feel when their child is in danger, no matter the distance. He had to instill his sister with the idea that she was a mother, no matter how vehemently Raven tried to deny it.

"Goddammit Qrow! I told you the reason why I had to leave!" Her fingers curled into fists, the veins on the back of her hands throbbed. She seethed with every breath, her charcoal colored lips pressed together firmly.

He set his porcelain teacup on its matching saucer. "When you told me why you couldn't be a mother, I told you your reasons were wrong. There is _nothing_ keeping you away, Raven!"

The Branwen twins faced each other across the table and traded barbed glares. The dark haired sister bit her lower lip hard enough to leave white marks. Then, Raven's hand fell atop of Yatagarasu's hilt. _Did I push it too far?_ _Have I just ruined the last chance this family has at becoming whole again?_ For a moment, he held his breath.

Neither spoke for the longest time. Finally, the fury that rolled off of the woman began to ebb. Raven took her hand off of her weapon's handle. Her heated glare cooled to a low glower, the ire faded gradually. When she spoke, her voice was tempered steel.

"Tell me," Raven said in a stage whisper, "what happened to Yang?"

He could feel her anger decaying like a melting candle. Her emotions sank lower and lower as concern smothered the hot flames of her wrath. Having said his piece, Qrow revealed what little he dared. "Yang was in the middle of the forest this night. A pack of Beowolves surrounded and attacked her. I was the one to find Yang."

A moment passed.

Then, "Is she alright?"

Raven's voice was calm, like the surface of a pond on a windless day. The empathy link betrayed the tempest that brewed beneath the surface. Anxiety surged down the link, causing Qrow's heart to beat faster. He could feel that she was tearing herself up inside, verging on full on attack.

Picking his words carefully, Qrow said, "As of this moment, Yang is alive."

He made it sound as though Yang were in critical condition, desperately clinging to life. This was completely intentional. If Raven learned that Yang was safe and sound, then she would have no reason to stick around. He couldn't completely lie to his sister, not with the link that connected them. So he spoke with truths wrapped in lies. Qrow watched with baited breath. _Would Raven take the hook?_

The surface of the pond shattered. She stood up out of her chair. Voice rising with hysteria, Raven shouted, "You need to tell me what Yang's condition is!"

"I don't _need_ to tell _you_ anything." Qrow said harshly, " _You_ made _your_ choice six years ago. _You_ don't get to act like _you_ suddenly care."

He threw back his head and swallowed his peppermint tea in one gulp. The empty porcelain teacup landed on the china saucer hard enough to chip. Then Qrow leaned back in his chair and watched the childless mother. Raven sat back down into her chair slowly, like a deflating balloon. The distress that she felt was becoming overshadowed by the strongest emotion yet: guilt.

The whites of her eyes were completely visible. Her teeth clenched tight, the muscles in her jaw flexed. She swallowed again and again. Between each gulp, she was sucking in air through gritted teeth. Her hands clapped together, wringing tight enough to redden her palms. The knuckles on her hands turned white.

Venom dripped from Qrow's voice as he snarled, "How would you even recognize your daughter? You haven't seen Yang since the day she was born. You flew off the handle the moment the nurse put her in your arms." The brother raised his voice, his words echoed in the room. "You didn't even give her a name! Taiyang had to name your daughter, all by himself! What gives you the _right_ to care about Yang Xiao Long?"

Raven held perfectly still, her pale face frozen. Endless remorse oozed down the link, threatening to suffocate Qrow. Then she learned over in her chair and dropped her head between her knees. Jet black hair spilled between her legs and pooled on the floor. She grabbed her brunette top with her hands and dragged her nails across her skull.

The silence in the lounge was punctuated by the swinging of the grandfather clock.

"Please…"The tortured woman rasped.

"Please tell me…" Each word took enormous effort.

Qrow leaned back in his chair, listening to the labored breathing of his guilt-stricken sister.

"Please tell me if she…"

Lifting her head up slowly, her pair of crimson eyes came into view. Tears rolled down her hollow cheeks. There was no questioning Raven's anguish.

"Please tell me if Yang will be alright?"

Shutting his eye closed, Qrow leaned back and exhaled a breath he hadn't been aware that he was holding. For Raven's sake, he couldn't put it off any longer. "Yang will make a full recovery."

The throne chair creaked as Raven sat up. She wiped her pale hand across her face and dried her tears. She drew in a shaky breath and tried to steady herself. Relief flooded the connection like a deluge of crystal clear spring water.

Sensing that the time had come the next phase, Qrow stood up out of his chair. He rounded the throne chair and began to stroll away from the table, his back to the mollified mother. Standing over the discarded _Dicter Tawel_ , the Huntsman knelt down and picked up his scythe. The scythe-wielder propped the deadly weapon against the doorway out of the lounge, leaving it behind for now.

Then Qrow craned his neck and glanced behind him. Looking at the overwhelmed woman, he added the second hook. "We don't know if the daughter of Summer Rose will be the same."

The water froze in the link. Scarlet eyes wide open, Raven petrified in place as she processed this new information.

Her lips parted slightly as she whispered, "Ruby Rose was there as well?"

The cloaked Huntsman said, "Yes."

Wood scraped on wood. The throne chair skidded back as fast as Raven stood. Qrow started to walk away, his boot falls completely silent on the wooden floorboards. Raven followed behind him with an urgent pace. The male twin led his sister away from the lounge as she caught up to him. Keeping pace with her brother's long strides, Raven fired question after question. The _quid pro quo_ trade had been discarded.

"You said that Yang and Ruby were alone in the forest at night, right?"

"That's when and where I found them."

Even as they spoke, Qrow was plotting out a roundabout course to the child bedroom. He could not lead Raven directly to the room where the girls were sleeping. If he took the straightest path, she would become suspicious. Not only that, but he had to pick up an item of extreme importance. Still, the longer this conversation lasted the fewer answers that Qrow could provide. He had to strike a balance.

They passed the kitchen. Qrow had not left the stove on.

Raven asked, "Where was Taiyang? Why wasn't he there to protect them?"

He couldn't provide excuses for his brother in blood. "Taiyang has shut down and crawled in a bottle since Summer died. I'm not sure he's ready to be a single father." Raven's heartache echoed in Qrow's chest. "After you disappeared, Summer was the one to help him raise Yang. She showed Taiyang how to change a diaper, how to handle a colicky baby, and how to bottle feed Yang. She never missed a day to visit. Summer was always there for Taiyang and Yang."

The remorse was back with a vengeance. The guilt trodden mother slowed her pace and began to fall behind. She hung her head low, staring down at her sluggish feet as though they were encased in cement blocks. Qrow didn't shorten his strides, but instead hurried to the nearby bathroom.

He slipped inside and approached the grimy mirror. He couldn't even see his reflection through the grunge. Qrow gripped the mirror glass and swung the polished silver pane open on rusty hinges. The hinges squealed from disuse.

Behind the mirror was the medicine cabinet. Inside were only two pill bottles. One was for Qrow to take when his left arm became unbearable. Qrow grabbed the second bottle and looked at the prescription.

"Do not take if pregnant." He read aloud. "That's not a problem anymore." He popped the cap and peered inside. There were still plenty of multicolored pills inside. He replaced the cap and discreetly slipped it into his right sleeve.

Exiting the bathroom with the item of importance, he found Raven standing in the hallway. She was leaning against the hall, crimson eyes downcast. The anguish that flowed from Raven was so intense that it caused Qrow to stagger. He steadied his footing and braced himself against the waves of agony.

Wordless, Qrow turned away from his suffering sister and began to march toward the master bedroom. Without even looking behind him, he knew that Raven was following. She would stay with him so long as he kept providing answers.

The heavy black door that led into the master bedroom was closed. Numerous wooden boards were nailed into the doorframe, blocking off the room where Qrow had found his mother's hanging corpse. He feared that entering this room might cause him to relive the experience. It was better that some doors remained closed forever.

Finally, Raven asked her next question. Her voice was so quiet. She sounded like a timid child.

"Is Taiyang a good father?"

Qrow had not been expecting this question. He glanced behind him. Crimson eyes were staring back with hesitant expectation.

"I have never seen a more earnest parent. He never complained, not even when he had to wake up in the middle of the night to fetch a glass of water. He spent all of his time with them. He gave the girls everything they needed, and provided for their reasonable wants. He loves his daughters with all of his heart."

A warm smile spread across Raven's pale face as Qrow described Taiyang's parenting. Her eyes fluttered closed. In that moment, she looked like the woman she had been six years ago. He could feel the love that Raven held for her ex-husband. Even after all this time, she was still holding a torch for Taiyang.

"It was only Summer's death that broke him."

The smile was gone as quickly as it came. The warmth was extinguished by another icy flood of guilt.

They continued to walk through their childhood home. Around the next bend was the door to the child's bedroom. Qrow's heart began to hammer in his chest. _Almost there, just a little bit more._

As they rounded the final corner, Raven questioned her twin once more. "Just what were Yang and Ruby even doing in the forest, late at night?"

Hastening his pace, Qrow quickly replied, "They were out there because Yang was looking for someone."

In his mind, the uncle was running up ahead. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer. His hands were clammy. His breathing was quickening. His fingers twittered around the pill-bottle in his right sleeve, anticipation rubbing his nerves raw. Everything was set; all that his sister needed to do was follow him to the door. Once she saw what was behind that door…

That was when Qrow noticed that Raven was no longer following him.

He stopped right in the midpoint between his sister and her daughter. He twisted his head to the right, looking with his single cardinal orb at the motionless mother. Raven stared at him with narrowed eyes. Her jaw was set firm and her sable painted lips were pursed tightly.

"Qrow," her hands curled into fists as spoke, "I can feel you."

_Shit._

"Why are you so nervous?"

_Double shit._

"Why are you walking toward our former bedroom?"

Instead of answering these questions, Qrow said, "Yang was looking for clues about you."

Her eyes widened. Raven drew in a sharp breath. "Yang knows who I am?" she asked with a voice full of dread.

Shaking his head, Qrow replied, "All she knows is that Summer is not her biological mother and that Taiyang married a female teammate. She doesn't know your name, or anything else." He began to walk backwards, inching closer to the door.

Suspicions forgotten, Raven stepped forward. "So in the middle of the night, Yang took Ruby and ran into Grimm infested woods. She did that just to find a clue about me? Why would she do such a thing?"

Keeping a steady pace, Qrow slowly lead his sister to the girl in question. "Are you really that dense, Raven? Yang was so desperate to find you because her family is falling apart. She is convinced that bringing you back will fix Taiyang. She thinks that you can make everything better."

A miserable frown fell upon Raven's face. "Yang thinks that she will find a woman that can provide her with the same kind of love that Summer did." Her eyes closed and her shoulders sagged. "Yang can't learn what kind of person I truly am."

"If she met you, what kind of person Yang would find?" Qrow stopped walking and listened carefully.

She looked down at her hands as if they were mutilated appendages. She spoke, "A broken bird, with broken wings." The pain in her voice was devastating.

"That's not true!" Qrow walked over to Raven. He grasped her by the shoulders and whispered, "Raven, you are not damaged goods. You are bent, but you are not broken. You are acting as though Yang would be better off without having a mother." Holding his sister by her shoulders, Qrow began to walk her toward the door. She did not resist, too caught up in fighting her inner demons.

"She's better off without _me_ as a mother. Yang does not deserve that heartbreak."

Qrow glanced at the approaching door, then he asked, "Why are you so determined to stay alone?"

"Because I am a failure. I have failed Yang more times than she can ever possibly know." Raven's chin dropped to her chest. "She wants a mother that can express love and affection. I cannot provide her with the love she ought to have."

Finally, Raven was standing in front of the door. She seemed scarcely aware of where she was. Qrow looked at her in the eyes. "You act as though you know what Yang truly wants."

"She wants another Summer Rose. She does not want me."

Incensed by her fatalistic attitude, Qrow grasped the door knob and twisted. "Then why not ask Yang yourself!"

He swung the door outward, stepping out of the way.

Raven raised her head and looked inside.  
Her eyes landed on the bed.  
She saw the motionless mound underneath the sheets.  
Two heads were resting together on the pillows.  
One blonde.  
One brunette.

For one glorious moment, Qrow thought he had succeeded in uniting mother and daughter.

Raven froze in place, every muscle in her body locked. Her pupils shrank until they were crimson pinpricks. She stopped breathing completely. Teeth clenched forcefully, her face was drawn taut across her skull.

Her head snapped to the side. She looked at her brother with an expression of unadulterated dismay. Before Qrow could speak, the connection between twins was flooded with every one of Raven's emotions.

Hurt.  
Confusion.  
Betrayal.  
Self-loathing.  
Anxiety.

And the guilt. There was so much guilt it was impossible to quantify with words.

The flash flood from Raven was like a punch to the face. Qrow staggered back, the words on his tongue were swept away by the tidal wave. He thought he had prepared, but it wasn't nearly enough. He sucked in a shaky breath and tried to steady himself against the surge of sensations.

A high pitched noise began to escape Raven's constricted throat. She was screaming uncontrollably through her closed mouth.

Crimson orbs locked on a cardinal eye. The hurt of Qrow's betrayal was evident in her wide open eyes.

Raven grabbed her stomach and doubled over. Her brother tried to reach for her, but his hand moved slowly, as if underwater. She spun around, almost banging her head against the door-frame. Then she bolted away from the open door and ran down the hall. For an instant, Qrow could only watch his sister as she retreated. Then he snapped out of his trance and leaped into the chase.

Staggering in mid-stride, Raven lost balance and slammed her shoulder into the corner at the end of the hallway. She stumbled like a drunken sailor, doubled over and moaning through clenched teeth. She held her stomach as if it was slashed open and her intestines were spilling out. She let go with her left hand and grabbed wildly at Yatagarasu as it hung from her right hip. The hilt of her weapon danced out of her reach as she swayed from side to side.

Raven finally grasped the evasive handle. Qrow threw his arms around her shaking body, slamming his chest against her back. He reached across her torso with his left hand and grabbed Yatagarasu. His fingers wrapped around Raven's hand and locked in place with a _click_. She tried to draw her blade, but he fought against her.

A harsh gagging ripped itself out of Raven's gnashing mouth. "You lied to me!" She still wasn't inhaling.

Qrow crossed his right arm over her thrashing body and tried to restrain her. "Yes! I lied! But it was for a good re—"

With a guttural snarl, Raven spread her legs and dropped low, trying to buck her brother off her back. Qrow reacted like lightning and instead hoisted his struggling sister into the air. Her body was unhealthily lightweight. An animalistic howl echoed off the ceiling. Suspended above the floor, Raven took her free right hand and tried to pry Qrow's fingers off of Yatagarasu. But the digits were as hard as steel. The woman kicked and fought like a wild animal in his arms until he could no longer keep her in the air.

The instant her feet touched the floor; Raven swung her body around and leaped backwards. Thrown off balance, Qrow was unable to stop her in time. The corner of the hallway struck squarely against his spine with a solid _thud_. The air in his lungs was expelled with a wheeze. Screeching like a feral beast, she whipped her head rearward and smashed Qrow's nose in with her skull. His head snapped back and cracked against the corner. Blood began to leak out both sides of his head. Still, his left hand did not loosen its grip.

Raven flailed as though she were having a seizure. Inhuman sounds ripped from her throat. She couldn't control herself at all. She was fighting purely on combat instinct honed by decades of Hunter training. If he showed the slightest weakness, it was exploited without hesitation.

Without warning, the wild woman began to retch violently.

 _Her symptoms are coming faster than_ ever _before!_

Vomit erupted from Raven's open mouth like a geyser. Bile painted the opposite corner and splashed to the floor. It was mostly water with only a few chunks of bread.

_When was the last time Raven had a proper meal?_

More puke spewed out of Raven's mouth. The acidic stench filled Qrow's nostrils. She couldn't catch her breath. She hasn't inhaled since she saw her daughter.

_Raven is going to suffocate if I don't save her!_

He couldn't tell whose panic he was feeling anymore. Was it his, or hers?

The pill bottle in Qrow's right sleeve slipped into his hand. With a single-handed twist, the cap popped off. The sound of the pill bottle only caused Raven to clench her teeth and thrash wildly. Still more vomit leaked out from the gaps between her teeth.

She lifted one foot and kicked the heel of her boot against Qrow's shin. He winced at the sharp pain. A number of pills spilled to the floor in the struggle. They were crushed underneath the twins' feet as they staggered around the hall. Qrow pressed the lip of the bottle against Raven's mouth and tried to deposit her medicine inside. But the remaining pills fell against enamel shields before they clattered to the floor.

"Goddammit Raven!" Qrow cried out. "You need to take your medicine! You aren't well, and these will calm you down!"

Raven opened her mouth. A deluge of bile poured from her lips before she could breathe in. Her face was beginning to turn blue.

Her right hand rose toward the ceiling. She balled her fingers into a fist. Then she dropped her elbow directly into Qrow's broken rib. Red splattered across his vision. The Huntsman nearly bit off the tip of his tongue. The pain was so great that he almost blacked out. He could hear Raven hissing in hurt, just the same as him. The empathy link between them was flooded with his agony. His right arm loosened and Raven tore out of his embrace. His left hand remained mechanically locked around hers.

Her balled fist opened and she shaped her fingers like a spade. With a savage scream, Raven drove her fingertips right into Qrow's left shoulder, slipping underneath the leather armor. Her nails struck the point where flesh was connected with metal. She worked her fingers into the metal arm and wrenched Qrow's prosthetic from his shoulder. At once, the metal hand ceased functioning and released its grip.

The pain was too much for Qrow to bear. He reached across his torso and grabbed his left shoulder. He held the metal prosthetic against his shoulder, trying to stop it from falling out completely. His legs gave out and he dropped into a kneeling position. He sucked in a deep breath and held it in his chest, trying not to scream. His face became red with effort.

Raven stumbled away from her one-armed, one-eyed brother. Finally, she sucked in a deep breath and let loose a soggy coughing fit. Some color returned to her face. As she gasped for air, she looked behind her and saw what she had done.

Tears rolled down her cheeks at the sight of her brother, kneeling and holding his broken prosthetic arm. Blood ran fluidly from his nose and more viscous red liquid matted down his black hair on the back of his head. He was breathing heavily, each gulp of air arrested with pain.

A wretched sob tore out of her throat. "Do you get it now? This is why I can't be a mother!" she wailed in sorrow. Raven stabbed a finger against her temple. "I'm just the same as our mother! I'm sick in the head, just as she was!"

Her shoulders shook as she wept, "I will never allow Yang to share in my sickness, not the same way our mother forced us to share in hers!"

Sobbing hysterically, the grief-stricken woman drew Yatagarasu and slashed the great blade across empty air. A blood-red portal opened in front of her, leading to somewhere far away from here.

"Raven, wait!" Qrow shouted desperately. "You are not the same as her! Our mother suffered from dementia and hallucinations! But that's not what you were diagnosed with! What you have is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder stemming from our blackened childhood!"

"Just listen!" He spoke as fast as he could, begging that his sister would just listen. "You have a panic disorder that leads to these anxiety attacks. You've taken medication in the past to handle your problem."

He looked down on the ground at the empty prescription bottle. "But when you got pregnant, you stopped taking these pills out of fear for Yang's health. That's why you were so unprepared when the nurse put your baby in your arms. You had a full blown panic attack, the first one in nine months, and you lost control!"

His eye squeezed shut as another painful lance stabbed through his shoulder. "You could have come back at any time, but you've convinced yourself that you are not fit to be a mother. I'm telling you that you're wrong! It's time for you to be the mother you were always meant to be!"

Looking behind her, Raven spoke with a broken voice. "What kind of mother needs pills to keep her own children safe from her?" Without waiting for an answer, she stepped toward her portal.

Pushing through the pain, Qrow screamed, "The girls cried themselves to sleep tonight!"

Raven froze in place. The portal was just one more step forward. She stood in front of the portal, her feet rooted to the ground. At any moment, Raven could step inside and be lost forever. He had to make this count.

This was the last chance for his family to be whole again.

"You _have_ to come back. Everything is falling to pieces right now! The whole family is coming apart at the seams! Only a mother can make it right again! Taiyang needs you, the girls need you, and you need them too! You need someone that will take care of you! Please, **just listen to me!** "

Speaking between gulps of air, he pressed forward. "I know you're feeling guilty about leaving Yang. Even now, as I speak, you are feeling so much guilt that _it's killing you_. I can feel it eating you up inside, there's no use trying to hide it. _But_ you don't have to be guilty any longer. This is the perfect opportunity to come back! Taiyang will most definitely forgive you, I know it absolutely. And Yang, she wants you to come home! You can finally be free from your guilt!"

The next part was the real gamble. "Finally, you owe it to Summer Rose to come home."

He braced himself. The next wave of guilt swept through his soul. It was like solid lead weighing down his heart and dragging him into deeper depths of despair. Yet, Raven still did not move. She was as still and silent as a statue.

"When you disappeared, Summer stepped in and raised Yang as if she were her own. If not for Summer, Yang would have grown up without knowing a mother's love. Because of her, Yang has matured to be such a bright and cheerful little girl. Summer _never_ let a day pass where she didn't tell Yang how beautiful her blonde hair was. Every single day, she would tell Yang that her hair was beautiful. She taught Yang how to comb her hair and how to care for it. There was not one day where she forgot to shower your daughter with love."

With every sentence, Raven's guilt dragged Qrow lower and lower. He refused to give in, to let Raven run away again without first hearing his words.

"Even when Ruby was born, Summer's love for Yang was unlimited. She did not divide her love between her step-daughter and her biological daughter. Summer loved them both with one hundred percent of her heart. It was not until recently that Yang even suspected that Summer was not her biological mother. If not for this tragedy, then she may have never even learned about you."

Qrow thought his heart would stop. It didn't even seem possible, for someone to experience this much guilt. _Raven has been carrying this guilt for six years. I must free her from it even if it means causing her more immediate pain. I will bleed her heart until she has a guilt-free conscious._

"And now, Summer is gone and little Ruby Rose is without a mother. You can change that, and you must! You owe Summer for the years she spent mothering _your_ daughter! You must pay her back by caring for Ruby the same way Summer did for Yang!" He sucked in a deep breath and shouted.

"You would make a _fraud_ of your _friendship_ with Summer if you refused to care for _her bereaved daughter!"_

For a moment, there was nothing.

The moment stretched on

There was no sound.

There was nothing at all.

Qrow held his breath and waited.

" _Please, if there is a benevolent god; set her free from her guilt."_

He received the answer to his prayer.

The answer was **no**.

It was as though the full weight of the ocean had fallen directly on top of Qrow's shoulders. The overwhelming force drove him down until his forehead was pressed against the floorboards. He could not even put a name to what this emotion was. To call it mere guilt was a gross understatement.

He could not feel the floor beneath his brow.  
He could not feel the pain in his shoulder.  
He could not feel his heart beating.  
All of his senses were frozen over.  
All he could feel was the cold.

Fighting against the overpowering emotion, Qrow could only twist his head and looked up at his sister. Raven Branwen turned around and stared down at her brother.

Her expression was completely blank.

Her eyes were vacant, completely devoid of life.

When she spoke, it was with a monotone voice.

"You would have me replace Summer Rose as Ruby's mother?"

Qrow had tried to bleed the guilt from her heart. He attempted to give her a way to purge herself of her self-reproach. When he cut at Raven's heart, he expected to find the shame of a mother who had abandoned her daughter. He had not expected this _monstrous remorse._ This guilt was killing her from the inside out. The source of this contrition was fresh. This was not an old regret, but something that happened recently.

"Raven, there's so much guilt in your heart," Qrow pleaded feebly, "what have you done?"

When she answered, her words were robotic. There was a faraway tone in her voice.

"How could I possibly be a surrogate mother for Ruby?"

Qrow listened with growing dread as Raven confessed to the greatest sin of her mournful life.

"When I was the one who killed her mother?"

All of the air left his lungs.  
His mind could not form coherent thoughts.  
He could only watch as his sister turned around and stepped through the portal.

As soon as the portal closed, the connection between twins was severed; leaving Qrow to lie alone on the floor with a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MEDICAL PUBLIC SAFETY ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW
> 
> In this chapter, Qrow Branwen attempted to force feed Raven Branwen pills while she was vomiting. This was a grave error! I spoke to a licensed nurse and asked her how to take care of people who are vomiting uncontrollably. This is what she wrote, word for word.
> 
> "Do not force anything into a vomiting person's mouth. It is possible to cause them to aspirate - meaning the substance enters the trachea and possibly lungs instead of the esophagus and stomach. Also ingesting anything before a rest period will likely prolong the vomiting. Waiting fifteen to twenty minutes and starting with sips of clear liquids is recommended."
> 
> Qrow could have made things so much worse if he had succeeded in forcing Raven to swallow those pills. This is just an example of how good intentions can have horrific consequences.
> 
> THIS HAS BEEN A MEDICAL PUBLIC SAFETY ANNOUNCEMENT
> 
> This chapter marks the end of the Requiem Chapters, at least for a little while now. Now we return to the present, where Chapter 9 left us. It's time to begin the story for real. Chapter 13 will be the first of Act 1.
> 
> Please, read and comment.


	13. Act 1: Cursed One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Raven meet in the dream world. They both have a lot to talk about.

Yang knew her prayer was unanswered before she even opened her amethyst eyes. A cool wind breathed past her cheeks, tugging at her blonde mane. She was standing on two feet, rather than lying on her bed. There was no question about it; she was back in the dream world.

The golden dragoness reluctantly opened her eyes and looked at the dreamscape. It was virtually the same as the last time she was here. She was standing in the cobblestone path of the main avenue, before the stone monument of Hunters. The white bark trees were still bleeding red leaves. The image of the Moon still hung in the sky directly above the towering spires of Beacon Academy.

Turning her head to the left, Yang sighted a statuesque silhouette beneath the crimson leaves of a weirwood tree. Raven Branwen was leaning against the bleached bark of the tree, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was wearing the ghastly Nevermore mask over her face, concealing her expression. Even still, Yang could feel her mother's eyes on her.

" _It's really her. That person is really my mother. All these years I have been searching for her, and she's the one to approach me."_

There were just _so many things_ that Yang was feeling right now. Her heart felt heavy with apprehension. But it was simultaneously pounding in her chest in anticipation. Stomach was churning with worry, but she couldn't keep herself from rocking on her feet in hope of the reunion. Amethyst orbs alternated from wide and anxious; to narrow and menacing. Ember Celica trembled fretfully, but her fingers were curled in tight fists. Yang didn't know if she wanted to embrace her mother and weep with joy, or punch her lights out and demand answers.

Torn between two opposite reactions, the blonde Huntress chose to do neither. She simply stood where she was and waited for her mother to make the first move. Her lungs drew in the cool air and expanded to their maximum capacity. The hammering in her chest grew louder and louder until Yang was convinced that Raven could hear it from where she was standing.

Finally, Raven stepped out from beneath the shadows and approached Yang. The armored warrior walked with direct and long strides, keeping her hips straight. Her boots were firmly planted with every step, ensuring the greatest amount of traction if she should need to change speed and direction in an instant. Raven's hand unconsciously hovered by the hilt of her weapon. This was the march of a soldier steeled for lethal combat at any given moment.

At ten paces away, she stopped and stared. Yang returned the stare. The night breathed upon parent and child. Lengthy curls of black and blonde hair were swept in the wind. Red leaves fell across the cobblestone road like spatters of blood.

"Did you…" the sound of her own voice seemed to startle Raven into silence. She cocked her head to the side, scrutinizing Yang's face.

"Did you have trouble sleeping?" she finally asked.

Lilac eyes blinked. "Uh… I guess so?"

The Grimm mask bobbed up and down. "I have been waiting here, for you to fall asleep." Her voice was perfectly flat, like the surface of a pond on a windless day.

"Sorry about that, I had a _pretty_ busy day." Yang grinned apologetically; raising her hand behind her head and scratched the back of her skull. She could hear the words coming out, but she didn't understand why they sounded so jovial. It was like there was someone else in Yang's mouth that was speaking in her place. She felt like a passenger in her own body, simply watching as 'outer Yang' interacted with Raven with ease. There was no thought behind her words, just a response from her auto pilot.

When Raven didn't immediately respond, 'outer Yang' quickly grabbed the reins of the conversation. "There was an award ceremony today at Beacon Academy. All of the Hunters who fought the Grimm breach were honored. I was awarded a golden medal of distinguished service. Did you watch the ceremony?"

What 'Inner Yang' really wanted to ask was _, "Did you see me on stage? Are you proud of me?"_

Shaking her brunette head, Raven spoke coldly, "I don't have time to watch some ceremony. I have more important matters to attend to."

'Inner Yang' grabbed her shoulders and squeezed tightly. _"How can she be so frigid? She's acting like she doesn't know who I am. Does she really not want me in her life?"_

However, the 'outer Yang' did not betray her inner turmoil. Instead she laughed clear as day and said, "It _was_ pretty boring after a while. I wish they would have let us go earlier. Maybe I could have gotten asleep sooner."

"It doesn't matter." Raven clipped. "I'm here because I didn't get to clarify my warning."

Leaning back on one leg, the blonde bombshell crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You said that Beacon wasn't safe. That's a big warning with not a lot of info there, bucko."

The external bad girl attitude was all for show. 'Inner Yang' was anxiously debating on what to say. _"How do I bring up the subject? I can't just say, 'hi, I'm the daughter you abandoned as a child, what's the deal with that' can I? I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"_

"Well, that was a mistake on my part." Raven allowed. "I wasted too much time before."

It occurred to Yang that both women were wearing masks. The difference was that Raven's mask wasn't on the verge of breaking. The more the conversation continued the harder Yang's heart pounded. She didn't know if she could hold herself back much longer. She didn't even know what she would do.

The masked swordswoman never looked away from the young Huntress. "I need you to listen closely to my words; I don't have a lot of time for questions. With luck, this will be the last time we meet."

It felt as though a slug had punched through Yang's chest. Her knees felt weak and breathing was far more strenuous than before. _"She isn't going to talk to me after this? Is she really going to abandon me again?"_ A hollow pit opened in her stomach at the concept of losing her mother all over again. 'Inner Yang' screamed at the top of her lungs _, "She can't drop in my life and leave just like that! I can't let her go! I have to say something to her!"_

But the only words that 'Outer Yang' spoke was, "Shoot away."

Nodding again, the armor-clad slayer began to speak. "Alright then…"

"Yang, when I saved your life, I made a mistake."

The deadpan way that Raven said caused both sides of Yang to pause. Then came the anger, flaring up like a volcanic eruption. "What did you just say?" she exploded, her voice shrill with equal parts shock and indignation. She curled her fingers into tight fists and shouted, "Did you really just say that saving my life was a _mistake!?_ "

Her cry rang throughout the dreamscape.

For a second, Raven simply stared at the livid blonde. Then she gave a start, as if suddenly realizing what she had just said. The masked warrior raised her hand up and pointed her palm at Yang. She spoke hurriedly, "No, that's not what I said!"

"Well, that's certainly what it sounds like to me!" Golden light began to stream down Yang's hair. The amethysts in her eyes were replaced with rubies. She could feel heat rising to her face. Through clenched teeth, Yang seethed, "It sounds like you regret saving me!"

After spending so much time in emotional purgatory, feeling this kind of righteous anger felt _damn good!_

The open palm recoiled back as if struck. Shaking her ebony tresses, Raven hastened, "I didn't intend for it to sound that way. What I was _trying to say_ is that I made a mistake while saving your life."

"Well, what the **hell** is the difference?!" the heated dragoness interrogated.

Yang wished that she could see Raven's face. It would make things _so much easier_ if she could see the expression behind the mask. She couldn't even tell if Raven was looking at her. It made gauging the conversation far more difficult.

Raven opened her palm again, "When I tried to save your life, I didn't finish the job. _That_ was my mistake."

A moment passed as the furious bruiser processed the words. Then she inquired, "What do you mean? I'm sleeping safe and sound in Beacon Academy. Are you telling me that the danger is still present?"

Nodding, the sword wielding terminator explained, "When I saved your life, I failed to secure its safety. My failure transpired when I let little miss Neo escape with her life as well. I should have killed that pint-sized psycho where she stood."

Yang could feel her rage abating, much to her dismay. _No! Anger, come back! I need you!_ But it was too late and she could tell that her Semblance was dwindling as well. Before long, the fire that had been building in her chest was extinguished, leaving behind nothing but cool detachment.

Begrudgingly, the mollified teenager admitted, "Alright, I'll agree that you should have ended that ice-cream bitch." Then Yang asked hesitantly, "But what does that have to do with me right now? Are you going to tell me that Neo will try to assassinate me outta nowhere?"

"The danger you face isn't Neo, at least not directly." Raven began. "The reason Neo was able to escape was because I was too distracted. By now, she has most likely reported the confrontation to her superiors. They will look at this incident and try to determine why my behavior so unusual."

Blonde eyes screwed up in confusion. "What did you do that was so out of character?"

After an explosive sigh, "I saved a life."

Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall in place for Yang. "You're not in the practice of saving lives, are you?"

Before answering, Raven grasped the hilt of Yatagarasu and began to draw it out of its sheath. As the blade _hissed_ free from its confinement, Yang saw that it was the color of fresh blood. When it was fully drawn, the length was merely one foot long. Then, without warning, the blade extended to a tremendous five foot span. The blade by itself was almost as tall as Raven. She flipped the blade point down and plunged the tip into the cobblestone. A deafening _crack_ split the air as the blade cleaved the stone-strewn avenue. Then Raven rested both of her hands around hilt and continued her speech.

"I have been combating the forces of darkness that conspire against civilization for many, many years. In my crusade against evil, I have brought ruin upon many malevolent societies and death-worshiping cults. I have slain countless slayers, killed so many unrepentant killers, and massacred those who would have massacred innocent lives."

Calloused fingers constricted around the hilt of her grounded weapon. Her tone became utterly lethal as she throttled the shaft like a scrawny neck. "When I end the lives of evil men, I preserve their would-be victims. _That_ is how I save lives; by hunting down malicious forces before they even have a chance to create victims." Her voice became heated as she asserted, "What I _do not do_ is swoop in between the killer and their prey like some _tawdry superhero_."

A brief silence fell between the women. Then Yang deadpanned, "Except… when you do."

"…Except when I do…" Raven conceded with obvious difficulty. She visibly deflated and loosened her death grip on her weapon. "Alright look, the point I'm trying to make is that I have made _quite a few_ enemies over the years. Each and every one of them would love nothing more than to find some way to exact vengeance against me."

The puzzle was not yet complete, but Yang had enough pieces to see a pretty clear picture. "You think that your enemies are going to target me now, because you rescued me."

Although her expression was hidden behind a mask, Yang could tell that she had hit the nail on the head by reading Raven's body language. The armored warrior's shoulders slumped and her head fell forward. Crimson eyes peered through the mask; a bloody gaze was cast down upon the Remnant below. She didn't speak.

That's when Yang realized that _this was the opening_ that she had been waiting for.

"So, why did you rescue me?" Yang asked with an innocuous voice.

There was no immediate response, not in the slightest amount. Raven's entire body became as motionless as stone. Her battle-worn fingers were locked so tightly that her knuckles whitened. The mask she wore betrayed no emotion.

Pushing forward, Yang tried again, "You must have had some reason to rescue me, right? You don't normally do it, so why then?"

She was met with silence. The ravenette remained bowed and her shoulders square. The imposing slayer could have been carved from obsidian, as lifeless as she was. A breath of wind breezed through her black locks, dispelling the notion that Raven had petrified.

Just as the blonde's frustration began to build, the statuesque raven spoke in a cold-blooded voice. "I did not have any reason to save you, I was merely passing by."

'Inner Yang' didn't even notice that she had been thrust back into the pilot seat. Mouth hanging open, she could only stare at the unmoved terminator. Then, without any reservations, the dragoness roared at the raven, "Are you _kidding_ me right now? You're telling me that you were just 'in the neighborhood' at the time I was being murdered?! That's _bullshit!_ "

A low growl emitted from the rustled raven. "I was _trying_ to stop the train, but instead I saved _your life!_ Would you rather that I had chosen my mission over _you?"_

Ember Celica sprang to life as Yang balled her fingers into fists. The shotgun-gauntlets unfolded along shaking hands. Pearly white teeth clenched hard enough to bite through hemp rope. Blonde eyebrows gathered together like a mounting storm. Narrowed lilacs became crimson carnations. Wildfire spread along flaxen strands, casting a halo of light around the furious Huntress. A tremendous heat wave billowed from her mouth as though it were an open furnace.

"Because _you chose me_ , a lot of innocent people died! _You_ could have saved many more lives if you had _stopped the goddamn train!_ Now you're trying to say that you had _no reason_ to pick me over _all of those innocents!?_ Do you really expect me to believe that load of _bullshit?!"_

The next words that came from Raven hurt like nothing else. "Well, maybe I _should_ have left you to die then!"

An irrepressible spasm passed through the fiery blonde. Her shoulders shook as though she had been struck by lightning. Scalding tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to spill over. She held a cry of pain in her chest, face reddening with the effort. Instead, all that came out was a miserable whimper.

If Raven heard the muted sob, she didn't react to it. She stepped out of her stance and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She turned on her heels and faced the opposite direction. Then she twisted her head around and glared furiously out from behind her mask. The red-armored raven snarled vehemently, "You're acting like there's something special between us! We've _never_ met before! Why should I care about you?"

Something inside Yang's chest snapped.

It was as though someone had doused Yang's entire body with gasoline and then tossed a lit match at her. A tempest of heat and flames detonated in front of Raven. A gale-force wind tore the tranquil air asunder, casting red leaves into the air. Waves of flickering radiance burst out of the epicenter of the explosion, casting pitch-dark shadows in every opposite direction.

In the heart of the firestorm, Yang Xiao Long burned like she has never before.

"How about the fact…" her voice began low. She stomped the ground with her boot. The cobblestone path shattered as though it were struck by a meteor. Stone fragments erupted into the air and showered down upon the women. The following roar was deafening.

"…that I am _your daughter!"_

The incandescent glow from Yang was so bright that it shone through the eyeholes in Raven's mask. For a split-second, the golden dragoness saw her mother's eyes.

Raven's crimson eyes were wide open and full of fright.

"That's right!" her bellow reverberated through the open air. "I know who you are! I know that you are the woman who _abandoned me when_ ** _I was a newborn baby girl!"_**

Even before the last shout had finished echoing, Yang continued to scream and shout.

"You _left me_ before I even had a name! Like, you couldn't wait for _one more second_ to get away from me! You carried me for nine months; then _ran away_ the moment I popped out!" The raging inferno continued to build hotter and hotter. Thermal winds buffered against Raven, forcing her to step back from the growing flames.

"Was the thought of being _my mother so_ ** _goddamn horrible for you?!"_**

A breathless whisper came from behind the stony mask. "…Yang… that's not…"

"You never showed your face! Even when _your teammate was_ ** _brutally killed!"_** Raven's head snapped to the side as if struck by an invisible assailant. "You were never there for your family! Even when _we needed to be together,_ ** _you never cared about any of us!"_**

With a strangled voice, Raven croaked, "…Yang… please… stop…"

Yang thought her teeth would break as hard as she was gritting them. She didn't care, everything was pouring out right now.

"You want me to _stop?!_ Stop what?! _Stop being_ ** _your daughter!? WELL I WISH I FUCKING COULD!"_**

The last hoarse scream caused the blaze to flare straight into the air. The glow from bonfire reflected off the stone face of the distant Beacon Academy. The holocaust spread from the focal point and out toward the paralyzed mother.

Eleven years of anger and pain slammed into Raven. She staggered back, her head rolling limply on her neck. She managed to grasp the hilt of her grounded weapon and held onto it desperately. The black-clad matron stretched back, scarcely standing on the tips of her toes. Her long ebony hair sailed in the might of her daughter's wrath. Her knuckles bleached as hurricane winds threatened to sweep her away.

Finally, the blistering whirlwind died out. Yang stood upon scorched Remnant, her chest heaving with every breath. Raven slumped to her knees, still clutching onto the hilt of Yatagarasu as though it were a support beam. She was held vertical only by her deathlike grip around her sword's handle. She laid her head against her upright arms, trying to catch a moments rest. Raven was not breathing.

Yang would not give her that moment.

With a thick voice, the dragoness scathed, "I have spent over half my life looking for you. I've always, always wanted to know what kind of person you are. Now I have my answer: a cold hearted _bitch_ who never _gave a fuck about me!"_

The kneeling bird stirred.

"You drop in uninvited, just to give me one warning! Do you think that makes up for everything that you've put me through? Do you even have any regrets at all about abandoning me?!"

A quiet mumble slipped out unnoticed.

"You know what; _I'm done_ chasing after you!" she hollered. "I don't care _anymore!_ You want to leave so badly? _Then_ _leave and stay the fuck_ ** _away from me!"_**

Raven began to slowly struggle to her feet, pulling herself up by her grasp on her weapon.

"I can watch _my own_ back! I've gotten strong without you! In fact, I've gotten strong _because you left me!_ I'm fucking glad _you ran away! I became strong_ ** _because you were gone!_** **"**

Finally standing, Raven pulled her sword out of the ground. Yatagarasu telescoped and then slid into Masamune's embrace. Head down low, the broken warrior turned around and began to shamble away.

Yang's voice was strangled as she screamed after the retreating raven. "I don't care about you! I don't need you! _I don't need you, and_ **_you don't want me!"_**

Before she realized what was happening, Yang's lungs had collapsed. The uncontrolled firestorm churning around her had sucked all of the oxygen out of her chest. The fire in her blood had been snuffed out by its own power. Gone was the swelling inferno that illuminated her golden hair. Gone were the boiling blood rubies in her eyes. Gone was the burning anger that shielded her heart from pain. There was nothing in her soul but the ashes of a lifelong wish.

What followed was the most grief-stricken scream of her life. Eleven years worth of aching and longing accumulated together and exploded forth.

She opened her mouth and a tortured cry tore out of her raw throat. **_"YOU NEVER WANTED ME!"_**

The anguished outburst echoed through the open air until it could be heard no more. The only sound that remained was the broken weeping of an abandoned daughter.

There are two opposite kinds of anger. There is dry anger, which grants the wielder a sense of power. When a person experiences dry anger, they are left in complete control of themselves. All they feel is a powerful purpose to correct what has wronged them. Dry anger is like dehydrated kindling in that it burns with ease. Yang has been taught by her father how using dry anger increases the might of her Semblance. She has learned how to thrive on dry anger.

What Yang was currently experiencing was the reverse of dry anger. What was pouring out of her was _wet anger_. It flowed from her eyes and down her face. It interrupted her breathing, forcing her to weep out of control. Each breath she tried to suck in was immediately expelled with another sob. It soaked into her muscles, draining them of all strength. She doubled over her stomach, her blonde mane cascaded over her shoulders like a deluge of molten gold. Yang dropped to the ground, the cobblestone scraped at her knees and caused her to bleed.

On the inside, she sobbed _, "I don't want to cry like this! I want to stop crying right now!"_ But no matter how hard she squeezed her shoulders, the shaking would not stop. Yang simply could not cover up her pain. It was humiliating, to be stripped completely naked of control. Heat rose to her tear-soaked cheeks, highlighting her shame with even greater clarity.

Yang had just spent all of her energies trying to convince Raven that she didn't care.

The inconsolable grief that was leaking out was evidence that Yang cared too much.

Yang pressed her face into the rubble beneath her. She rubbed her eyes into the dirt and soot, trying to dry them before they were seen. Her body was shaking like a leaf in the wind, despite her effort to remain still.

That's when she heard a solid object land on the ground in front of her with a sudden _crack_.

She turned her head and looked at the object.

It was Raven's Nevermore mask.

Just beyond the mask was a pair of boots.

Rubbing a cheek into the soil, Yang craned her head until she could see straight up.

Raven was standing above Yang's trembling body.

The visage of Raven's face came into focus.

She was weeping so many tears that they fell like rain.

Teardrops landed on Yang's drenched cheek, joining mother and daughter in grief.

Yang sniffled, "Why are you still here?"

Raven sobbed, "Because I don't want to leave."

Then the broken bird dropped mere inches away from the weeping dragoness. She fell like a marionette that had just been cut from its strings. The fragmented stones crunched as she landed on her knees. Raven inhaled a deep breath and continued to shed tears.

For the longest time, mother and daughter listened to each other as they rode out the waves of lifelong regrets.

This continued until they had both exhausted themselves of tears. Yang's throat was bloody raw, so Raven spoke first. Her voice wobbled as she struggled to string together coherent sentences. "Yang… I have never _stopped_ wanting you." Amethyst eyes widened in astonishment. "Not for one moment, for the past seventeen years, have I ever ceased longing for my baby girl. I wanted _nothing_ else than to hold you in my arms."

The unbridled emotion in Raven's voice tore at Yang's heartstrings. Then her heart nearly stopped when she heard Raven's next four words.

"Yang, I love you."

The dragoness began to quake anew as fresh tears flowed freely from her watery eyes.

"I love you so much. I love you with every fiber of my being. I have been waiting for so long to say these words to you. I am so, _so_ , **_so_** sorry… that this is the first time you've heard them from me. I can't even begin to say how much—" Raven raised her palms to her face and ground them into her eyes.

The mother lost her voice to the rising tide. The daughter found her voice, weak as it was.

"Why… did you…?" She could only manage those three words, but it was enough.

Raven removed her hands from her face and pressed them against the sides of her head. She squeezed her head so hard, as if she were trying to break her skull open. Her mouth contorted in a horrible grimace. When she spoke, each word was a struggle.

"Because… I had to… keep you…"

Yang listened intently for the next word. This was the answer she had been waiting for, since eleven years ago.

"…safe…"

The pain in her throat forgotten, Yang pleaded with a scratchy voice. "Safe from what?"

Raven shook her head with her entire upper torso. The frown on her face distorted with anxiety. She was breathing faster and faster. "Please… don't… make me… say it…"

Unease settled in Yang's stomach as she watched her mother beg for leniency. But she couldn't let the answer go. "Please, tell me what you were keeping me safe from!"

An unconcealed sobbing fit shook the raven. She bit her black-painted lips hard enough to leave contrasting white marks.

"I need to know! Tell me, safe from what!"

Unable to contain the words any longer, Raven opened her mouth and cried out.

"Safe from _me!"_

Uncomprehending amethysts locked onto fearful rubies. "What?"

With a defeated sigh, the crushed brunette lowered her head and cast her gaze upon the Remnant beneath her. Unveiling those words caused Raven's weeping to come to an end. She began to talk with a composed voice, as though she had been rehearsing this speech for ages.

"What do you know about my mother, about your grandmother?"

Yang squeezed her eyes shut and tried to dredge up the memories of the past. "Uncle Qrow told Ruby and me about her, I remember."Raven didn't look up, but her head bobbed once at the mention of her brother. "He said that she was sick in the head, like mentally disturbed or something." Yang opened her eyes and looked at her mother. "He said that your mother hurt you and him when you were children. Uncle Qrow didn't say much, but he said that Grandma would get angry and lock you guys up in a room for no reason."

The memories of those iron barred windows were fresh in both of their minds. Raven shook her head to banish the image, taking a moment to collect herself. "Mother Branwen did much more than that, I'm afraid. I'm not surprised that Qrow was reluctant to speak about it. We vowed to try and put it all behind us when we became Hunters. Unfortunately, neither one of us seem to be very good at keeping our words." A short laugh shook her shoulders.

"That woman," Raven smoldered, "was a delusional, accursed witch that believed that she was the daughter of a wealthy tycoon. She imagined that she was surrounded by handmaids and butlers that took care of her every whim. She hallucinated that there were enormous parties hosted within that desolate house. She would dance alone in the ballroom of that house and speak daintily to thin air. In Mother's mind she was living in the past, back when the Branwen family was rich and powerful."

Her crimson eyes squinted as tears pricked like hot needles. Raven's voice tightened with torment, "There were no butlers, no handmaids, and no partygoers besides her. The only others were Qrow and I. We had to play our parts, to help our mother keep up her fantasy. If we didn't hand her wine as fast as she demanded, or if we failed to curtsy in just the right way, or if we tried to ask her for food, it all fell apart for her. She hated everything about world, blaming it for the deplorable state of the Branwen family. And she took it out on us…"

"…over…"

"…and over…"

Raven's eyes were vacant, lost in the past that gripped her so tightly. Yang lunged forward, grabbing her mother by the shoulders. As soon as daughter made contact, the mother began to thrash and cried out, "…and over!"

Yang's grip on Raven's shoulders did not break, even when the woman swatted at her arms in a panic. She could only stare as the woman seized out of control. The frenzied slayer was hyperventilating. Twin crimson eyes rolled into the back of her head.

The blonde couldn't believe her eyes. It was like watching an exorcism in progress. "Raven, stop!" she pleaded.

With a start, Raven stopped breathing and tightened every muscle in her body. Prolonged contact with her daughter was starting to have an effect. Her eyes closed and her spasms slowed. Silence fell around the two daughters of Branwen.

Then Raven expelled her breath and sucked in another. She grasped Yang's hands and gently pried them away from her shoulders. Then she let go of Yang's hands and turned her upper body away. She didn't look at her daughter.

A pit was growing in Yang's stomach. She beseeched her mother, "What happened to you?"

Inside, _"Is this the mother that I have been waiting for?"_

After a second, Raven turned her head back ever so slightly and gazed at Yang out of the corner of her eye. There was pain in that orb of crimson. Her next three words were tight with shame.

"She broke me."

The pit in Yang's stomach dropped until it was a chasm. She couldn't speak.

Raven looked away again, hiding her humiliation from sight. "My mother damaged me in a way that cannot _ever_ be repaired. No matter how many decades pass, I will _always_ be just as broken as I was when I was a young girl. I can't become whole again." Her voice cracked as she mourned.

"She passed her sickness onto me."

Ember Celica reached forward, slowly bridging the gap between mother and daughter. But Raven shrank away from the golden gauntlet, shaking her head and whimpering, "It's like a curse that spreads from parent to child. I will never let you share in my sickness. I can't let this curse pass onto you as well."

Yang swiftly retracted her hand. The speed at which she withdrew caused feelings of guilt to sprout in her heart. The weight of the shame began to pull her heart into the chasm. Yang shook her head, a halo of golden locks swirling around her crown.

"But Raven, how could you pass that sickness onto me? You wouldn't hurt me, you love me!"

Suddenly, a guilt-ridden sob tore out of Raven's throat.

Yang whispered, "You wouldn't hurt me, right?"

Raven's shoulders shook as she kept her face turned away. "When—when I begin to suf—suffer these at—attacks..." her voice trembled, "…I become un—unsafe to be around. I ca—can't control myself—f when th—th—they strike…"

Speechless, the dragoness could only listen with mounting dread. The raven sucked in a breath and steadied herself.

"…It's like being a passenger in my own body. I can only watch as my body begins to operate against my will. No matter how much I struggle or scream and beg for it to stop…"

The mother crossed her arms in front of her body and squeezed her own upper arms.

"…You shouldn't have been put in my arms. That nurse didn't have the experience to spot my symptoms. I lost control of myself and… you were crying… I couldn't take the sound… I wanted it to stop… my fingers were wrapping…"

Digging her nails into her arms, Raven bowed forward and struck her head against the ground with a solid _crack_. Yang was rooted to her position, too paralyzed to help. Then the cursed woman shrieked _, "Oh my god, if_ ** _Taiyang hadn't been there_** _…"_

The throaty cry echoed through the dreamscape. The next questions were scarcely a whisper.

"…How could I be a mother for you, Yang? When I tried to murder you before you were five minutes old?"

Yang was falling apart to pieces, to ashes. The questions that had driven the young woman for over half her life were being answered. But, these weren't the answers that she had been looking for. In a sick way, Yang felt irrationally angry that _this_ was her mother. _"I wanted my mother to be a horrible human being, too selfish to care about anyone but herself."_ She bowed her blonde head and felt her heart sinking with guilt.

" _I wanted a reason to stop caring, to simply be able to write her off as a lost cause. I wanted to move on with my life, without ever having to think about her again. But now…"_

Then she realized that Raven was waiting for an answer. Mother looked at daughter, searching her face. Yang set aside her guilt and said in a voice too shrill, "But, you didn't want to kill me."

The ill slayer shook her head and closed her crimson orbs. "Would that have mattered at all, if I had?"

There was nothing Yang could say.

Raven condemned herself with a despondent tone of voice, "It never matters what I want. I never _wanted_ to hurt the ones I love most. But it never changes _anything_ ; because that's the only thing I _ever_ do for them. I never _wanted_ to hurt you; to hurt Taiyang; to hurt Qrow; to hurt—"She sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes as more tears leaked from creased eyelids. Her nails sank into her shoulders again, the tips sheathed completely.

The blonde dragoness argued against the raven's self deprecation. "But, there had to be a way to manage things! Isn't there some—some kind of drugs you could take to stay in control? Not any medication at all?"

Shaking her stygian tresses sadly, Raven opened her eyes and dismantled the case. "For the longest time, I was on pills that helped me contain myself. But when I became pregnant with you, I had to stop taking them because they were not safe for pregnancies. That's why I lost control when you were born."

"Then why not come back and take your pills—"

"Because Yang, there is no medication that's perfect!" Raven bemoaned. "Even while I was on that medication, I _still_ experienced violent breakdowns from time to time. There was never any guarantee that you would be safe, not as long as I remained by your side. All it would take is _one_ unsupervised attack…"

Yang fell silent.

"I loved you too much to bear the thought of _ever_ harming you. That is why I sacrificed _all our days_ together. Your first steps, your first words, your first missing tooth. _Every moment_ we could have had together, I threw away to keep _you safe!"_

A desolate sigh, then a soft, "…safe from me…"

Tears rolled down Yang's cheeks. She held her breath to stifle her sobs.

Hesitantly, the mournful sermon continued. "I am cursed with ruin. Wherever I go, destruction follows close behind me. So long as I live, I will hurt those around me."

Bitterness saturated her words. "My entire life has been one failure after another, with nothing to show for my troubles but _more pain._ No matter how hard I try, the only result that I ever achieve is more failure. I've failed to be a good wife for Taiyang; to be a good sister for Qrow; and to be a good mother for you. Even on the train, I failed to save your life. I have put you in grave danger, all because of my failures." Her eyes crinkled, their true age showing through. Tears fell from crimson wells of suffering.

"The only thing I have _ever_ been successful with has been killing. It's as natural for me as breathing. I can kill in more ways than you could even dream. My hunts extend beyond the creatures of Grimm. I happen to be _very good_ at exterminating the kind of threat that thinks."

There was need in her voice. "So, that's what I have been doing for the past seventeen years. I have been finding and ending _every single threat_ to the sanctity of life."

Then Raven looked at Yang with such wide eyes. "I have spread my curse to demons, bringing ruin down upon them. I have rid the world of malefactors, so that it might be a safer place for my daughter to grow up in."

Her head tilted to the side. "Yang, I do it all for you."

A broad smile spread across her face, baring her back teeth. "That is how I show my love for you."

Yang felt a cold shudder run up her spine. _"Raven has been alone for seventeen years. She's becoming unhinged. This can't continue any longer."_

She lunged the distance between them, throwing her arms around her ailing mother. Her hands clasped together, behind the slayer's spine. She buried her face in her mother's black velvety hair, squeezing the long-estranged parent with all of the love she could muster.

The disconcerting smile fell off Raven's face, replaced with open mouthed shock. She sucked in a sharp breath. Her hands flew up and hovered behind her daughter's back. They held in place, frozen above the flowing curtain of golden yarn. Every muscle in her body locked. Heat surrounded her body, a tenderness that she hasn't experienced in eleven years.

Warmth soaked into the aching warrior's muscles, releasing them from their stasis.

Mother and daughter kneeled on blistered Remnant, together at last.

Raven lowered her hands gingerly, running them through gold.

She squeezed her daughter's body into her own embrace.

The tender, loving scene lasted for as long as it could.

The cursed one should have known it wouldn't.

It never does.

With a whisper, Yang pleaded in her mother's ear, "Raven, you need to come home."

Crimson eyes crinkled, "I _can't_ go home."

"But… why?"

"Nothing has changed. I'm still just as much of a hazard as I was the day you were born."

Squeezing her mother harder, "You need _help_ , and your family can provide it for you."

Raven rested her chin upon Yang's crown. "Anyone who tries to help me will suffer for it. I can't let that be the ones I love, not ever again."

"Please! Can't you at least try?"

The mother sighed in remorse.

"How could I possibly try to go home…?"

She was so enraptured in her daughter's embrace that she spoke without considering her words.

"…When the last time I tried, I cost my best friend her life?"

A moment passed.

Neither mother nor child moved a muscle.

Raven's face became sheet white as awareness dawned.

Yang slowly pulled out of her mother's embrace and stared at her.

The warmth was sucked out of her heart like a vacuum.

Mother and daughter stared at each other.

Cold crimson met fearful crimson.

Dragoness broke the silence.

" _What_ did you just say?"

"…Yang… I—I—I didn't intend to say…"

"Are you talking… about Summer?"

"…no—no—no—no…"

"What do you know about Summer's death?"

"…no—no—no—no—no—no…"

"Tell me what you know." There was tempered steel in her voice.

"…I can't—I can't—I can't—I can't…"

Raven began to rise from her kneeling position. Her eyes were wide with fright as she whispered the same two words over and over again.

"…I'm sorry—I'm sorry—I'm sorry—I'm sorry—I'm sorry…"

"Sorry for _what?_ Don't do this to me, _Raven_." Yang's voice was becoming shrill with hysteria.

Standing upon shaking legs, the ailing raven aimed her palm toward Yang and whispered, "I never _wanted_ for it to happen. I—I—I lost control of myself… there was nothing I could do…"

Yang reached up toward her mother's extended hand and tried to grab it. But Raven withdrew her hand and began to step backwards. Yang tried to stand, but her legs would not respond. As the raven slowly retreated, the dragoness beseeched her mother.

"Don't do this to me. You can't leave me, _not like this."_

Tears flowed down Raven's face, soaking her cheeks. "Forget about me."

Then she turned and ran.

Yang was left groveling in scorched desolation. She opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.

**_"RAVEN!"_ **

* * *

With a raucous gasp, Yang woke up in her bed. She could feel her pillows beneath her head. They were soaking wet. The stench of burnt fabric filled her nostrils.

Ruby popped her head over the edge of the bed and beamed at her sister. "Wakey-wakey, sleepy head!" She exclaimed with a bright grin. "Gotta get ready for class!"

Yang stared into silver eyes, at a loss for words.


	14. Synthetic Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headmaster Ozpin meets a new form of life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains dangerous amounts of Penny. Brace yourselves.

The sun was rising over the city of Vale. It cast its light across the vast metropolis. Rows upon rows of buildings came into view. As the sun climbed, the morning rays illuminated tall, conical spires topped with finials. The daylight swept lower, revealing dormer windows, steep Mansard roofs, wide spaced cornices, flying buttresses, and decorative entablatures. Thin, cylindrical chimneys thrust out of rooftops, breaking apart the skyline.

Numerous silver tram lines sliced through the city of Vale, suspended above the urban environment.  They glimmered in the sunlight. Boxed trams road the lines, carrying passengers to their destinations with dependable reliability. Humongous steel columns supported the tram lines, creating arches that cast long shadows upon the streets below.

Above the sidewalks, hard-light holograms projected solid images of electric-blue streetlamps. On the ground level, square latticed windows caught the morning rays and were set alight. The numerous shops and stores were beginning to open their doors for business. The streets of Vale hustled and bustled as the morning rush began.

Far above the capital city, the Atlesian air fleet floated. Sleek and silver aircrafts flew through the sky, patrolling the vast metropolis below. A colossal dreadnought hovered on enormous antigravity wings. It dwarfed every other craft by several magnitudes. _The Ouranos_ was the flagship of the Atlesian air fleet, a marvel of modern military technology.

Aboard the _Ouranos_ , Headmaster Ozpin strode through the main deck, right beside General James Ironwood. Four footfalls and the _clack_ of a cane echoed down the wide corridor. The General was speaking, “You’re certainly welcome to talk with Roman, but I’d advice on saving your breath. He doesn’t talk about his employer in the slightest. He turns everything into a joke, or spins a yarn about his previous crimes.  Failing that, Roman will burst into a song with such filthy lyrics that it makes my Atlesian Knights blush.”

The princely Headmaster looked at his friend, peering over black spectacles. “Your Atlesian Knights are purely mechanical androids.”

A wiry smile landed on General Ironwood’s weathered face. “That should tell you everything you need to know about Roman’s singing.”

Slender fingers adjusted dark spectacles. Ozpin’s smirk matched the General’s. “Then this should be entertaining, at the very least.”

The two leaders shared a chuckle.

Then Ironwood became somber. He fixated his steel-blue gaze directly ahead and stated, “I heard how the High Council has threatened to investigate your competency as Beacon Academy’s headmaster. I want to assure you that I never intended to jeopardize your position. It doesn’t sound right to my ears, Beacon Academy without Ozpin.”

Ozpin responded with, “Would you have still written that report, if you knew their reaction ahead of time?”

The General set his square chin firmly. “I will not apologize for speaking my honest opinion.”

“Nor would I ask you to.” Ozpin nodded his platinum crown. “You needn’t worry about the High Council. They have been searching for reasons to remove me for quite some time. All they can do is launch an investigation, which they have many times in the past.”

“I hope, for your sake, that the investigation comes up clean.” The General continued to lead his ally toward the brig.

“And I hope, for the sake of the people, that you never lose your sense of duty. It is your greatest quality.”

Before the leaders was a pair of large blast doors that opened to the brig. Standing in front of the massive doors was a very colorful little lady with short, curled, ginger hair. On top of the orange bouffant was a tall cowlick. Behind her head was a bright pink bow. Electric green eyes sparkled above round freckled cheeks and a button nose. Around her neck was a black and green collar. The girl was dressed grey skirt overalls over a pale blouse. Green trimmed pockets circled around her narrow hips. She wore black stockings with a green stripe running down the outside of her legs.

Her wandering emerald orbs fixated upon the approaching leaders. She gave a start, then immediately snapped to a perfect salute. Her merry expression was replaced with a stern look.

“Officer on deck!” she announced with a peppy voice. Her shout echoed down the empty hallway.

General Ironwood stood in front of the carroty girl and stared. The girl maintained her salute and looked dead ahead.

“At ease.” The general stated. The girl lowered her hand. “Penny,” he sighed, “there’s nobody else here but you. It isn’t necessary to announce the arrival of a superior officer when you’re the only other person who will hear it.”

“Ooh…” Penny exclaimed. “I’ll be sure to remember that one!”

The cantaloupe-haired girl was short enough to stand beneath Ozpin’s shoulders. The headmaster looked down at Penny and spoke, “Well, hello there. Who might you be?”

Penny craned her neck up and looked up at the greatest Huntsman alive. Neon green locked with coffee brown. A wide grin spread across her freckled face. “Salutations, my name is Penny Polendina! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Enthusiasm burst with every word.

Smiling lightly, Ozpin informed, “The pleasure is mine. My name is Ozpin and I’m the Headmaster of Beacon Academy.” Then he peered directly into her vibrant green windows. “Now, what might a colorful young lady, such as yourself, be doing aboard _The Ouranos?”_

The girl was clearly not used to being asked questions. She began to twiddle her fingers together and searched her superior officer’s face for any hint on how she should proceed. Coming to the rescue for the discomfited damsel, General Ironwood answered Ozpin’s question.

“Private Polendina is stationed here as part of her ongoing education. She will be taking part of the Vytal Festival Tournament as a test of her programming.”

Chestnut eyes narrowed slightly at the last word. Ozpin returned his gaze to Penny. Then his eyes widened suddenly and a broad smile landed on his face. “Well, well, well! Aren’t you more than meets the naked eye?” Turning his mousy head to the General, “Is she the result of _that project_ you told me about?”

Wearing a triumphant smirk Ironwood reminded, “You mean _that project_ that you said would _never_ work? He crossed his arms in front of the service bars that adorned his chest. “Yes, Penny is our first working model.”

Nodding contritely, Ozpin allowed, “Well, let it never be said that I don’t know when to admit that I was wrong. This is an example of an instance where I am pleased to be mistaken.”

During this exchange, Penny kept looking back and forth between the powerful leaders. The diminutive girl shrank even smaller in the presence of such great men. “Umm!” she hesitantly inserted, “Does this mean that Headmaster Ozpin is… _in the know?”_

The five-star General answered the cadet, “Yes, Ozpin knows about your top secret project.” The smug look on his face was borderline insufferable. He boasted, “Headmaster, meet the world’s first synthetic humanoid capable of producing an Aura.” He swept his hand, gesturing broadly to the petite ginger. “She can use Aura just like a Hunter; to shield herself; to power her weapons; and even to make self-repairs in the battlefield. Penny will change the face of military power forever.”

Upon hearing the reveal, Penny began to grin again. Pearly teeth flashed as she beamed proudly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Smirking lightly, Ozpin informed, “You already said that.”

Penny’s emerald orbs uncrossed slightly and she stared into open space, her mouth hanging open a little. Then she snapped to attention and declared, “So I did!”

A cringe replaced Ironwood’s haughty expression. “There are still a few glitches to work out, it appears. Penny’s memory banks tend to develop gaps.” He fixed a hard stare upon the synthetic. “Especially when it concerns her orders to stay with her bodyguards.”

Bowing her head in embarrassment, Penny hid her eyes behind tangerine curtains.

Musing aloud, Beacon’s Headmaster disagreed, “I don’t believe those are glitches. It may just be Penny’s soul peeking through her programming.” Ozpin reached beneath the abashed android’s chin and tilted her head until her eyes met his. Then he raised his left hand so that it hovered above her face. He looked directly into electric green eyes and asked, “Would you mind?”

Ironwood answered, “Be my guest.”

Ozpin shook his ashen hair. “I wasn’t asking for your permission, but hers.”

Penny hesitated; then nodded her consent. With a comforting smile, Ozpin proceeded to flip his hand upside-down so that his fingers brushed her chin and his thumb pressed against her broad forehead. Immediately, Penny’s eyes began to flutter and her mouth opened wide. She made a noise that sounded like a sharp gasp. That wasn’t possible, because Penny had no lungs to inhale.

Coffee colored eyes closed.

_You have such an enthusiastically inquisitive soul. You want to learn everything about the world you were born in, don’t you?_

_I guess that’s true, but… I wasn’t born, I was made._

_Things are made, people are born. You are not_ a thing _. Although your parts may be inorganic, that does not mean they are not alive. You are a living, thinking soul and that makes you a person. Never forget, every person deserves the right to pursue happiness._

_I’ll be sure to remember that one. You say the same things as my best friend._

_Interesting, would your best friend happen to be a young Ruby Rose?_

_How did you know?_

_I can feel a trace of her spirit. Ruby occupies a very large space in your soul, doesn’t she?_

_Ruby is my first friend. She talks to me, even though she knows my secret. Ruby spends time with me by choice, and not because she’s paid to. When I’m with her, I don’t feel like_ a thing _._

_Cherish people like Ruby, for they are treasured jewels in the rough. You never have to question their integrity, because their souls are too simple for deception. How they appear on the outside is how they are on the inside. Charisma like hers can change the world._

_I would protect her with my life._

Ozpin opened his eyes and retracted his left hand away from Penny’s face. His hand rested upon his right, grasping the polished silver head of his cane.

Her slender lips were gently parted, their corners upturned ever so slightly. Her persimmon head was bowed. Chin rested on a scrawny collar bone. Hands were clasped and pressed them between her breasts. Shoulders hunkered together, as if to contain what she was feeling inside. Penny appeared as serene as an angel.

Rich green eyes opened. There was absolutely no uncertainty in those windows.

General Ironwood glanced between them; then inquired good-humoredly, “So, what names did Ozpin call me behind my back?”

Blinking her emerald orbs rapidly, Penny asked, “Didn’t you hear us talking?” Confusion was evident on her young face.

Ironwood shook his head. “You never spoke a word out loud.” Astonishment illuminated Penny’s eyes.

Ozpin ran a finger up the bridge of his nose, pushing his spectacles in place. “Penny has a very bright, very young soul.”

Clasping his hands behind his back, the General remarked, “Somehow, I knew that you would enjoy meeting a new form of life.”

“Umm, Headmaster Ozpin!” Penny interjected. “You have a bright, young soul too!”

A gentle laugh left the Headmaster’s lips. “Thank you, Penny. Your complement is a bit misplaced though. My soul may be many things, but _young_ is not one of them.” His brown eyes twinkled warmly.

Tilting her carrot-topped head slightly; Penny inspected Ozpin’s unwrinkled face with puzzlement. He explained in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, “I use a lot of moisturizer.”

Neon green eyes blinked in bewilderment. The dumbfounded expression on Penny’s face was priceless. The General shook his head in amusement as Ozpin chuckled. The synthetic began to wonder whether she was being turned into the subject of an inside joke. She puffed her cheeks out and sulked.

Taking pity on the poor confused girl, Ozpin asked, “Would you like to visit Ruby at my academy?”

The beginnings of the frown disappeared in an instant. Emerald eyes sparkled with excitement. “That would be sensational!”

“Then I’ll grant you a visitor’s permit. I’m certain that Ironwood has no problem with this?” Ozpin glanced at the General, an impish smirk on his lips.

Blue met Brown. Then Blue looked at Green. Green was practically exploding with anticipation. Blue returned to Brown. Brown twinkled mischievously. Blue went back to Green. Green continued to discharge beams of pure optimism bright enough to banish even the coldest shadows from the darkest corners of Blue’s shriveled heart and reminding him of his youthful days as a boy who wanted nothing more than to spend sweltering summer days playing childish games with his most dear friends.

Blue sighed in defeat.

“So long as Penny keeps up with her training, then she may use her free time as she pleases.” Then he warned, “Just remember to call ahead of time. Dropping in unannounced is impolite.”

“Thank you, sir! I’ll be sure to remember that one!” then Penny turned to Ozpin. “Thank you so much; for the permit and for the kind words.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

Giggling, “You already said that.”

“So I did, so I did.”

Addressing the synthetic humanoid, General Ironwood requested, “Headmaster Ozpin is here to question Roman Torchwick. Pvt. Polendina, would you open the doors to the brig?”

Recognizing the order immediately, Penny saluted briefly and marched over to a control panel beside the blast doors. The control panel had a twelve-button keypad and a palm-scanner, but she did not interact with either of them. All she did was fixate a stare at the panel and it _beeped_. The polished steel doors unlocked with a bass _clunk_ and separated smoothly.

The Headmaster strode through the great large doors, his cane rapping against the metal floor. General Ironwood gestured to Penny, who fell in line.

The brig was as cavernous as a cathedral, with high ceilings and chambered cells. Six footfalls and the _clack_ of Ozpin’s princely cane echoed off the arched plafond above. The brig was capable of holding hundreds of prisoners. As of this moment, it only held one. In the center of the brig was a mobile jail cell. The mobile jail cell had three metal walls and a single barred door. It was prepared to be transported onto an airship. It detained the singular criminal captive aboard _The Ouranos_.

Ironwood and Ozpin stopped before the cell door, while Penny stood out of sight. Roman was sitting on a bench, slouching slothfully because he had nothing better to do. He was still wearing the same clothes he wore at the time of his capture: a white trench coat with black trousers. An ashen muffler was wrapped around his neck. His hands were fitted with dark gloves. The stygian eyeliner beneath his jade orbs was smudged. Roman’s signature bowler cap was missing at the time of his arrest.

The most-wanted criminal gave the General a cursory glance with a single lazy eye. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t General Chrome-dome again. What is this, one last conjugal visit before I’m shipped away?” he sneered nastily.

Without even batting an eye, the decorated General stepped aside and gave central stage to Ozpin. Roman’s jade eye locked onto the stately headmaster and widened with surprise. A foul grin spread across his face. He rose from the bench. “And look who you brought along, the man you stabbed in the back!” Roman clasped his hands together and shook them with glee. “Now isn’t this swell? We get to stand around and _hate each other_ as a group.”

The two free men shared a glance. Ironwood shrugged his broad shoulders as if to say _‘I tried to warn you.’_ Turning his coffee-colored eyes to Roman, Headmaster Ozpin addressed the prisoner. “I’d like to have a chat with you before you’re transported to the Black Cathedral Detention Center.”

Curling his long orange bangs around a finger, Roman drawled, “Izzat so? What do I get out of this, besides one of your legendary ‘rights of all living things’ speeches? Don’t those count as ‘cruel and unusual punishment’ in most kingdoms?”

“I’ll spare you my sermon if you tell me about your employer.” Ozpin proposed.

Roman tapped his chin thoughtfully, “That’s certainly tempting. But like I’ve told General Ironwood-in-his-ass, I _don’t have_ an employer.”

Shaking his silvery mop, Ozpin muttered woefully, “Well, then it’s a sermon you’re going to get.” Then he looked at Penny, who was still standing at a distance. “Penny, would you please prepare the three of us something to drink?” Back to Roman, “What would you care to have?”

A single jade eye fixated upon General Ironwood’s suit. “Can I ask for that tin flask that Ironwood carries in his inner pocket?” He licked his lips, “Getting me drunk could improve your chances?” he trailed off suggestively.

Penny walked toward the Headmaster and stepped into Roman’s line of sight. As soon as the ginger criminal spotted the equally ginger synthetic, Roman unleashed a short bellow and threw himself against the back of the mobile jail cell.

“Hey, hey, hey, no! Get that hell child away from me!” he cried out with wild jade eyes. The transition from disinterested to dismay was quite a sight to see.

“Have you two met?” Ozpin questioned Penny, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Before she could answer, Roman hollered again. “Ironwood, what are you feeding that little monster? Is it Wheaties dunked in _steroids_ or something?” He thrust an accusing finger at the petite girl, “This freak of nature pulled an airship to the ground with her body alone! She also fired a freaking laser beam that sliced _two more airships **out of the goddamn sky!”**_ Roman threw his hands into the air as his outrage echoed throughout the spacious brig.

Penny turned her gaze to Ozpin and asked, “What kind of beverage would you like?” The synthetic inquired with an innocent tone of voice. Emerald eyes glimmered mischievously as she smiled.

“A simple cup of coffee with two sugars and two creamers.” The Headmaster requested.

General Ironwood spoke up, “I’ll have my usual.”

Roman grumbled to himself, then began to say, “I’ll take a—”

Penny interrupted, “I’m not serving _you_ anything.” She turned to face the imprisoned criminal. Her eyes were narrow with anger. The ends of her mouth turned down into a deep frown. She curled her hands into fists and rested them on her thin hips, elbows jutting out.

Mouth open with indignation, Roman exclaimed, “Okay, spill it! What did I do to deserve _this hostility?”_

“You _shot_ my best friend!” Penny stamped her foot on the ground.

“One time!” followed shortly with the audacious admission, “Not for lack of trying, mind you…”

Emitting a high-pitched growl, Penny began to march toward the cell door while rolling her sleeves up her skinny arms. Ozpin’s hand landed on her lean shoulder and arrested her forward progression. She craned her neck up and met his eyes. “You have a tremendous heart…” He began with a heavy voice.

For a moment, those deep umber orbs were unfocused. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at some point beyond the android’s face. She looked at his faraway expression. Then the Headmaster gave his silvered head an imperceptible shake. “…Don’t let anyone use it against you.” His sage words were weighed by experience.

“I’ll be sure to remember that one.” Penny said quietly. Then she gave a start. “Oh, I forgot to make the coffee.” She turned away on her heels and began to walk briskly. She called behind her, “I’ll be right back, my friend!” The angelic android made it two more steps, then glanced back at the dignified headmaster. “Um… is it alright if I call you friend?” Her lean shoulders hunched together.

“Yes, we are friends.” Ozpin waved his hand. Penny immediately smiled wide enough to show her back teeth. She skipped out of the brig. Her shoes _clacked_ on the floor and her curly orange locks bounced with every spring.

Watching the retreating robot, General Ironwood commented, “You have made Penny’s entire week.”

“It’s amazing what an act of kindness can accomplish.” Ozpin remarked.

“Hey!” Roman interjected from his jail cell, “You want to know what would be an _amazing_ act of kindness? Getting me a **goddamn** cigar!” Turning simultaneously, both leaders directed their attention to the imprisoned ginger. He sat in his cell and moaned, “I’m just _dying_ without my cigars. I don’t even smoke that many of them, not during my usual schemes. I can’t afford to get addicted to anything. Usually, at the end of every job, I go into hiding for a number of months to let the heat die down. I can’t always guarantee that I’m going to have enough cigars to last me while I’m lying low. There’s nothing worse than withdrawal symptoms, I’m telling you that.” Roman wiped his hand across his brow, smearing sweat on his glove, “But _this_ job has me stressed out so badly that I’ve been going through whole packs a day! I’m going to have _the worst time_ when I’m finally done with this whole debacle.”

Ironwood declared, “Have you forgotten, Roman, that you have been sentenced to death?”

Ozpin stepped up to the jail cell and proposed, “I can guarantee you cigars _and_ life in prison if you agree to reveal information about your employer.”

Rolling his jade eyes in exasperation, Roman exclaimed, “How many times do I have to tell you assholes?” He enunciated every word, “ _I_ don’t _have_ an _employer!”_

The Headmaster stared down at the sitting criminal. Coffee brown met jade green. Ozpin spoke in a low voice, “I know you’re lying. I have information from a credible source that the true mastermind behind this plot is referred to as ‘The Queen’. Now, I want _you_ to tell me: who is the Queen?”

A truly sickening smirk smeared across Roman’s face as he whispered, “Do you even have to ask?”

Leaning harder on his cane, Ozpin inclined his head closer to the cell bars.

Slapping his knee, Roman guffawed, “Just look at me! I wear _eyeliner!”_ He burst into high-pitched cackling. The sound of his hilarity clamored throughout the cavernous brig.

His giggling was cut short when Ozpin’s hand lunged through the bars and grasped the scarf around Roman’s neck. With a powerful heave, the ginger was hoisted from his seat and forced to stand on his toes. Roman was now eye to eye with Ozpin. There was no mischievous twinkle in those cold brown orbs; no hint of merriment or mercy. When the greatest Huntsman spoke, there was menace in his voice. Ozpin had sent Penny away for a reason.

“You cannot, for one second, convince me that you are the Queen.” Ozpin’s lips curled into a snarl, “You are not _smart enough_ to come up with such a plan. You are not _farsighted enough_ to manage a scheme with such complexity. And you are not _powerful enough_ to force the White Fang to bend to your will. You are simply a pawn in a war game _far_ greater than yourself.” His grip tightened around Roman’s scarf until his the color blanched from his knuckles. “This war will cost _many people_ their lives if it is prolonged for much longer. Your life is next on the chopping block.” Ozpin leaned in, his voice taut, “Do you truly intend to let someone else _sacrifice_ you for their own goals?”

The hand that held Roman upright did not so much as tremble. After carrying the weight of the world for so many years, a single man was no difficulty for the Headmaster. It would take no effort to make Roman hurt. The human body was a precariously balanced collection of delicate cogs that meshed together in just the right way to function. Disturbing this balance causes incredible stress. This translates to pain for the human brain. It would be very easy to upset the machinery that formed Roman’s body. Ozpin knew countless methods. Not every one of them was prohibited by the law. It was knowledge that he hoped never to use again.

Lesser men have crumbled beneath the force of this man’s overwhelming presence. While still being held off his feet by a single fist, Roman adopted an expression of boredom. He shifted his mouth to the side and tilted his head. Looking directly into brown eyes, Roman drawled, “You’re such a charmer, Ozpin.” An unsettling sneer spread across his face as he jeered, “It’s no wonder _she hatesyou **so much.”**_

Opening his hand, Ozpin released Roman and let him drop squarely on his feet. The criminal wasted no time to fix the arrangement of his scarf. He spent quite a bit of time; however, touching up the wrinkled neckwear. Headmaster Ozpin waited patiently as Roman restored his muffler. At last, Roman elaborated, “I don’t know what you did to inflame her so badly, but the Queen positively loathes you. I’ve only ever heard her say your name one time. But if I ever hear her say _my name_ with that same tone of voice, I’ll be running for the hills.” Then he put two fingers up to his temple, “Or to expedite the inevitable…”

Roman held his hands up in mock surrender. “That being said, she’s probably already _livid_ about how her plan got blown to pieces. It’s not my fault, in my opinion. But she might disagree with me on that one.” He drew a finger across his neck. “For all I know, the Queen would kill me the moment I show my face again.” Then he shrugged.

“The way I see it, there are only two ways this’ll all play out.” He held up his index and middle finger. “One, I bust out of prison.” He lowered his index finger. “Or two, I get executed. Now, if I were to squeak like a rat; that would all but certainly lead to my execution. So in theory, my best bet for survival would be to keep my silence.”

He grinned, flashing his teeth. “Sorry chumps, but I’m going to hold this card to my chest. It won’t help _me_ in the slightest if you guys learn her name.”

General Ironwood insisted, “We can put you in Witness Protection. You’ll be imprisoned under a different name in another kingdom. We can keep you safe from the Queen.”

High-pitched laughter punctured the air like gunfire, repeating throughout the echoing brig. Roman leaned forward, his shoulders convulsing as he cackled uncontrollably. He grabbed his stomach with both hands, rocking back and forth in his seat. When he finally caught his breath, Roman chortled, “You think you can protect me?” He wiped a fat tear away from his jade eyes. “Oh man, you guys can’t even protect yourselves. You have _no idea who you are up against, or what she is capable of!_ Trust me when I say that the Queen is way, _way_ scarier than you chuckleheads.”

It was obvious by now that Roman was not going to cooperate. Turning on his Oxford heels, Professor Ozpin began to walk away from the mobile jail cell. His cane _clacked_ against the floor with every other step. General Ironwood spared the prisoner one more reproachful look, then followed the Headmaster out of the brig.

 _“Arrivederci!”_ Roman called out.

As the massive doors to the brig sealed shut behind them, both leaders walked side-by-side. Ozpin spoke first, “The Queen doesn’t seem to be afraid that Roman will betray her. If she were then she would have made an attempt to kill him already. The question isn’t whether she’ll attempt to liberate him, but _when.”_

Nodding his graying head, Ironwood agreed, “Roman will be transported to the Black Cathedral Detention Center on the outskirts of Vale. I am already positioning a platoon of soldiers to support the prison guards. A fleet of airships will cover the sky and my Paladins will patrol the ground. Ensuring that Roman’s execution goes off without a hitch is my top priority right now.”

Ozpin quirked a grey eyebrow, “What are your plans for the Vytal Festival?”

“I will postpone the festival for two weeks. During which, I will be shipping more soldiers from Atlas to bolster security.” The General said flatly.

The corners of Ozpin’s mouth turned up. “I can’t imagine that the Council will be happy about that.”

His mouth set in a hard line, Ironwood stated, “They put me in charge of the festival’s safety. The Council wants to pin the blame on Roman and execute him quickly. They hope that his death will put the citizens’ minds at ease. But you and I know better. There is still a threat, and I will not underestimate their capabilities. I would rather _overestimate_ our enemies.”

Wearing an unreadable expression Ozpin warned, “It might seem like wisdom to prepare for the absolute worst. But over-preparing can lead to the enemy changing their plans to accommodate your defenses. If you become complacent just because you have built an impenetrable fortress, then you lower your guard to an unexpected attack. Don’t simply prepare for a siege. Prepare for anything.”

Steel blue eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting that I place _fewer_ troops at the prison?”

“I’m saying that if you have an undefeatable army positioned at the base, then the enemy may simply attempt to circumvent the army entirely.” Ozpin adjusted his spectacles. “Stay alert. All the soldiers in the world may not make a difference if our enemy throws an unexpected curveball.”

Murmuring to himself now, “Roman is right about one thing. We do not yet know the full capabilities of the Queen. Until we know her identity, all we can do is speculate upon our current knowledge. What little we do know about her paints a very grim picture for our future.”


	15. Lunar Eclipse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neo finds out first hand what happens when you disrespect the Queen.

Down by the docks of Vale, the sun was beating down on a seemingly abandoned warehouse. 'Seemingly' being the operative word. Inside, a veritable platoon of White Fang soldiers worked tirelessly. The losses they suffered at Mount Glenn had been tremendous. Every soldier was made to toil even harder to compensate for the lack of numbers.

There was grumbling and snarling and gnashing of teeth abound when Adam Taurus had announced their new timetable. The White Fang's warriors were reduced to manual labor. In the sun-baked warehouse, they laid down sliding tracks for additional assembly lines. The acidic stench of sweat accompanied the  _clanging_  of metal pieces hammering together. Soon, they would construct robotic arms beside the assembly lines. With mouths set in hard lines, the soldiers continued to plug away in preparation of their next assault. They worked without even knowing what they were building.

It seems that, for the time being, the White Fang was still under the leadership of the redheaded bull. How long it would last was another matter entirely.

Far removed from the steaming factory floor was a room set aside for the leaders. Corkboards lined the walls, populated with pictures and maps. A long conference table dominated the center of the room. There were five chairs, none of them sat at the head of the table. That chair was wheeled off to the side by an undersized girl.

Neo sat in the chair with her short legs dangling inches above the floor. She strained to reach the floor with the tips of her toes. Then she finally admitted defeat and simply drew her legs into a meditative pose. She slouched forward with her elbows on her knees. She rested her chin on her wrists and stared at a single corkboard directly in front of her. Dual-colored eyes darted between two pictures on the board, tracing a red string that connected the photos.

One picture was of the Grimm Reaper. That was the codename for the mysterious masked swordswoman. She always seemed to appear at the most inopportune times to wreck as much havoc as she could. The Reaper wore a mask fashioned after an Ancient Nevermore, thus the 'Grimm' moniker. The photo that was tacked on the board did not do her justice. The atmosphere, the overwhelming  _dread_  that accompanied her arrival was not something that could be conveyed by a still image. Seeing the Grimm Reaper on the train had been enough to drive Neo into a blind panic. The small girl blinked her eyes. They were white as bleached bones.

Tearing her sight from the first picture, Neo turned her attention to the second. It was also of a woman, although much younger and her face was fully visible. Amethyst eyes glared directly into the camera, issuing a challenge to everyone. Long blonde hair flowed like molten gold from her crown. A wide grin full of pearly teeth spread across the young woman's face. The last time Neo saw this woman, she had not been smiling. She had been growling and snarling like a dragon, right up until the moment that Neo had knocked her out. She could still remember the  _crack_  of the blonde's skull upon impact. A brazen smile adorned Neo's lips.

A red string was stretched between the pair of pictures. It signified a connection between the two women. The first did not have a name, just an unofficial alias. The second had been identified as Yang Xiao Long, a first year student at Beacon Academy. On the surface, there was absolutely no reason to think that they were connected. But the Queen was convinced that there must be a link. There was no other reasonable explanation as to why the Grimm Reaper had chosen rescuing Yang over stopping the train.

Thinking about the train led Neo to wonder about Roman. Sitting on her lap was his signature bowler cap, black with a red band around its circumference. She ran an absentminded finger along its rim. The smile slipped off her face. She blinked and her eyes became brown and white. She pressed the bowler cap against her chest. Her shoulders scrunched up as she leaned forward in her seat. Pink and brown hair tumbled over her shoulders. The chair was becoming larger and larger, swallowing up the tiny girl. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander. Neo pressed her mouth and nose into the hat. She blotted everything out, focusing her olfactory senses on the scent still lingering in the fabric of the memento. It smelled of cigars and too much ritzy cologne.  _Vaporic Aphrodisia dē Renaissance._  Roman only ever wore the best and the most expensive fragrance. Anything else would be settling for less.

_Clink._

The sound of glass striking a surface punctured Neo's bubble of awareness. It came from behind her. She raised her head from Roman's cap as the noise repeated over and over, drawing closer. Her hands balled into fists. Tiny teeth bared, exposing pink gums. Cheeks burned pink. Eyes shifted pink.

Glass heels  _clinked_  against the floor as the Queen approached Neo's seat. She stopped a distance away. The sound of papers fluttered. Then a smoky voice wafted through the air. "I can feel your killing intent from here." Neo's eyes narrowed to slits. "I would be impressed, if it were not directed at me." Neo continued to glare dead ahead, drilling holes in the corkboard with her eyes. "I know you disagree with my plan to rescue Torchwick."

Leaping out of her seat, Neo stomped the ground and turned on Cinder Fall. The brunette femme fatale was sitting against the conference table, one soft porcelain ankle crossed over the other. Her palms were flat on the table, sharp fingernails drumming on the surface.

There was a short stack of papers beside her.

Neo's thigh-high boots  _clopped_  on the floor as she marched up to the Queen. She stabbed a finger up into Cinder's face and hissed, "I can't agree with a plan that  _doesn't exist!_  We should be saving Roman right now!" There was a hint of an Italian accent in her voice.

Golden orbs narrowed dangerously. Cinder crossed her arms beneath the swell of her voluptuous breasts. Blood-red painted lips pressed together, forming a straight line as Neo raged.

"At this very moment, Roman is about to be transported to a maximum security prison! He's being moved from one impenetrable fortress to a different impenetrable fortress! We should be hitting the transport, where the security is weakest!" Neo slapped her hands on her backside and gyrated her posterior into her palms. "Not sitting on our hands," she laced her fingers in front of her and thrust her thumbs straight up, "with our thumbs up our bums while the best chance we have slips through our fingers!"

As soon as the confectionery girl was finished, Cinder responded coldly. "I do  _not_  have to explain myself to my subordinates. But, just for your benefit, I will regale you with my reasoning." She flipped curled sable locks, like liquid smoke, over her bare shoulder.

"Our enemies aren't fools; striking the transport is  _exactly_ what they expect of us. It's a trap, one that we will not blindly stumble into. A certain Huntsman is aboard that transport."

With a flick of her wrist, the Queen produced a photograph and showed it to Neo. "The virus I injected into the Cross Continental Transmit tower has spread itself far and wide. With the spyware, we have eyes and ears wherever the Atlesian military does. This was taken from security cameras aboard  _The Ouranos_."

Mismatched eyes flickered from Cinder to the picture. The image was apparently of  _The Ouranos'_  hangers, with numerous airships in the background. A large, double-decker transport ship was in the foreground. A mobile jail cell was being loaded into the belly of the transport ship. Inside the cell was Roman Torchwick. Neo felt her heart elate briefly. Then she saw the second person inside the transport ship and her heart plummeted back into the pit of her stomach.

Standing just to the side, overseeing the prisoner transfer, was Headmaster Ozpin with a mug of coffee in his hand.

"Now do you see?" Cinder demanded, "Any attack on that transport was doomed from the start. Ozpin is not an adversary to be underestimated. This is why  _I am the one_  who plans the attacks."

Neo's gloved fingers curled in a tight ball, the leather creaking. Eyes squeezed shut. Teeth ground together hard enough to be audible. Her voice was so low that she barely heard herself.

"You're a coward."

Without warning, Cinder spun on her high-heeled slippers and began to saunter away. Neo watched the Queen retreating. "Hey! I'm not done talking to you!" the multicolored murderess waved after her. Then she saw where Cinder was marching: the chair where Neo had been sitting just moments before.

Her eyes bleached white and she stammered, "W—w—where do you think you're going? I'm right here!" Neo stabbed a finger at her feet.

With golden fire burning in her eyes, Cinder stepped up to the chair and reached toward the empty seat. The daedal gilding weaving up her crimson sleeves and along her décolletage flickered as though reflecting a distant inferno. Pliant fingers coiled around thin air, and then squeezed slightly. With strength unthinkable for such a trim arm, Cinder Fall tore Neo out of her illusion and into the visible light spectrum. Directly behind Cinder, the image of Neo fell apart like a mirror pane shattering to shards. The viperous pyromancer gripped the illusionist by her neck, constricting her throat until she couldn't breathe. Then Cinder singlehandedly lifted Neo until her boots were dangling above the floor.

When she spoke, her voice was no fiercer than a pilot light. "Your Semblance will not work on me, as I have just demonstrated." Neo grabbed Cinder's fingers and tried to pry them off her throat, to no avail. The woman's grip was like a steel vice. "I have been  _remarkably_  magnanimous with your attitude thus far. But you have broken my leniency, so now I will respond in kind. I will tolerate no more disrespect from you. Roman may have allowed you to behave like a simpering child, but that has come to an end."

Face darkening; Neo curled her spine like a shrimp and drew her knees to her chest. She launched a kick straight at Cinder's blasé expression. Just before her foot could strike that infuriatingly impassive visage, an orange flare ignited and engulfed Neo's foot. The Queen had projected her Aura to absorb the impact. Neo's ankle twisted off center, accompanied with a sickening  _pop_. Her mouth stretched opened, but no sound leaked out of her closed throat. Cinder's arm scarcely trembled as the diminutive killer thrashed in her stranglehold.

"Do  _not_  mistake my prudence for cowardice. To underestimate Ozpin is a foolish mistake. To underestimate  _me_  is a fatal one." What was most terrifying was how Cinder's voice did not betray her wrath. There was no screaming fit; no exaggerated tantrum; not even an audible change in her tone of voice. "There is a plan in motion to remove Ozpin's power from the board; one that you are not privileged to know."

Neo was becoming blue in the face while Cinder calmly continued her sermon. Her words drifted through the air like smog, her pollution filling Neo's head. She heard soft-spoken words through the deepening miasma. Hypnotic tones stirred the toxins invading Neo's mind, smothering out independent thoughts.

"Just understand that you are a pawn under my command."

Lungs felt like they were on fire.

Limbs filling with cold lead.

Consciousness slipping.

"You will do  _what_  I say,  _when_  I say it, and exactly  _how_  I say it."

Falling into darkness.

Head full of smoke.

"Don't think."

Eyelids closing.

Fingers jerk.

"Obey."

Roman.

Help.

Me.

Abruptly, the crushing pressure around Neo's neck was gone. She sucked sweet air into her deflated lungs. She felt herself plummet to the ground an instant later. She landed on her sprained ankle. Agony jolted up her leg like a jagged blade. She exhaled her breath with a pained cry. The ground rose up to meet her. The impact jostled through her entire body. Hands slapped on the cold concrete. Her palms were red and stinging. Heat rose to her cheeks. She opened her eyes and saw grey floor just in front of her face. A ragged coughing fit shook her petite frame. She could feel her warm breath rising from the floor.

An ugly purple bruise wrapped halfway around Neo's throat. There were five half-crescent marks where Cinder's nails had dug into ivory skin.

Standing above her, the Queen stared down at the coughing girl. Shadows obscured her face. Golden eyes glowed like molten coins. She crossed her arms just below her bosom, grasping her own elbows. She gazed upon the prone girl's leg. A dim pink light began to strobe up and down Neo's injured ankle. Her Aura alternated between three colors as it tended to the damage. A moment later, the throbbing in her ankle had reduced to a dull ache.

Cinder spoke faintly as Neo struggled to her feet, "Resent me all you like. Just don't show me insolence."

The diminutive lady kept her face turned away. Reaching around with nimble fingers, Cinder gripped Neo's chin and forced her to look back. White and brown pools were brimming with stinging tears. Her cheeks were bright pink. Heterochromia eyes averted.

Tutting lightly, "I wish you hadn't pushed me to use force. It was unpleasant for the both of us. If you would simply stop fighting me, these tears you cry would cease to fall."

By now, Neo's Aura had finished mending her ankle and had begun heal her neck. It shimmered and palpitated like an  _aurora borealis_  as it circled the damage. Ethereal light reflected off of tear soaked cheeks. Her emotions and her accent were both tempered. She rasped, "I just want Roman back… I don't want to see him die… I don't know what I would do… without him…"

Nodding her crown sympathetically, the Queen sighed vaporously, "I want Roman back as well. But we can't simply charge in without a plan of action. We must wait until every puzzle piece is in place."

"I can't stand waiting around… doing  _niente_ … " Neo's Aura continued to massage her throat. The discoloration was visibly receding. Her voice was becoming clearer with every passing second, "…while Roman's execution gets closer and closer…"

Cinder glided toward Roman's bowler cap where it had fallen on the floor. Long, supple legs extended forward, her glass heels  _clinked_  with every step. She knelt down and pinched the rim of the hat between lithesome fingers. "If you want Roman back safely, then you are going to have to follow my orders. Even the ones that say to do  _nothing_." Standing up, she drew back her arm until the hat was beside her ear. Then she swung her arm forward and let Roman's hat fly like a Frisbee.

Neo watched the bowler cap as it soared through the air, tracing a perfect arc around the room. The hat skimmed the surface of the conference table until it landed on top of the stack of papers. The short girl turned her multicolored head and looked back at the Queen.

Pointing at the documents, Cinder told her, "I have organized dossiers for each member of your team. Your team will receive its mission in due time. In the meanwhile, you would do well to read their files and familiarize yourself with your teammates."

Scowling at each instance of the word "team", Neo gave the papers a repulsive glare. She objected, "I don't work well with others. Roman only ever gave me solo missions." Her hands danced in the air as though she were conducting a symphony. "The word 'teamwork' is not in my vocabulary."

"Then you will add it to your lexicon." Cinder spoke crisply, "These missions are not ones you can complete on your own. Simply remind yourself that this is for Roman's sake and swallow your pride."

The bruise around Neo's neck was all but invisible. Running a finger along her throat, the petite psychopath growled. Then her shoulders slumped in defeat. Her tall boots  _clopped_  against the concrete floor as she approached Roman's bowler cap.

Neo picked up the hat upside-down and ran her hand along the inside. Then she flipped the keepsake and placed it over her head. She slid a fingertip along the rim, just the same as Roman had so many times before. She decided that she would wear it until his return. Pink and brown eyes landed on the papers.

Making a supreme show of it, the young girl picked up the stack of papers. Then she thumped the bottoms of the papers on the surface of the table, lining them up perfectly. She licked her finger and pinched the cover page, before tearing it away and revealing the first file beneath. Rolling mismatching eyes in exaggerated reluctance, Neo finally began to read her teammates' files.

Almost immediately, she complained out loud, "You're putting a  _sudicio_ faunus on my team?"

"I see that you've learned speciesism at Roman's knee." Cinder sighed. Then she clarified Neo's accusation, "A faunus is not being put on your team.  _You_  are being put on a team  _led_  by a faunus." Neo's mouth dropped open. She started to protest, but Cinder interrupted her. "Take a closer look at Liquorice's heritage."

Tiny lips pursed tightly, Neo did as she was told. A moment later and her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. Both became brown. She spun her head and stared at Cinder in astonishment. Neo's curiosity curdled her accent as she questioned the Queen. "I didn't even know that  _those kinds_  of faunus existed! Why is this not public knowledge? Are there more of her kind?"

Smirking lightly, "She has asked that I keep that a secret. If you've thought that  _normal_  faunus were treated poorly by humans, then you don't even know what  _her kind_  has suffered at the hands of  _normal faunus."_  A solitary ember danced between her svelte fingers as she insinuated, "There is a reason why the White Fang don't have any of  _her kind_  in their ranks."

Neo wore an expression of genuinely surprise. "So even faunus can hate other kinds of faunus, no?"

"Being a victim of bigotry does not disqualify one from being a bigot in turn." Cinder shook her brunette crown and remarked, "Hatred toward faunus is not exclusive to humanity. You might find out that you have a lot in common with Liquorice."

Neo completely forgot about her hatred for teams. She tore into the papers and began to read them with reckless abandon. The papers fluttered loudly. Her eyes traced the lines of script, zigzagging back and forth with impressive speed. She read the names of her teammates out loud.

"Liquorice Sicariidae …"

"Ube Muffet…"

"Neo…"

"Akayami… redacted." Neo screwed her nose up. "Why is Akayami's last name removed?"

Shrugging her naked shoulders, Cinder merely proposed, "That's a question you should ask her yourself. What answer she gives you, however, may depend on the time of day and her present mood."

Then the Queen turned her back on Neo. Brown and white eyes landed on the crooked black heart branded between Cinder's thin, molded shoulders. Glass slippers  _clinked_  as she strode away. Her full hips sashayed back and forth, the tail of her crimson dress swinging like a pendulum. She turned her head and called out behind her.

"I'll leave you to your assigned reading. Prepare to meet your teammates within the next few days. You should try to get along with them. The life of your guardian is on the line."

Just before she exited the conference room, "Welcome to Team L.U.N.A."


	16. Heartfelt Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovely day with Teams RWB and JNPR.

It was noon at Beacon Academy, time for lunch. Already, the cafeteria was alive with the sounds of chatting and chewing mouths. Silver utensils ranged and plates teeming with mouth-watering meals clattered. Sunlight poured in unimpeded from tall windows topped with mosaic stained glass. Seen from above, the floor was packed with students from all of the kingdoms. The variety of school uniforms was going to be a common sight for a long while; given the announcement that the Vytal Festival had been delayed for fifteen days.

The decision had not been well received. The festival was meant to be a three week event. Pushing it back two more meant that the foreign students were being made to stay in the kingdom of Vale for a full month. This was much longer than any of them had signed up for when preparing for the festival. Travel between kingdoms was becoming all the time more dangerous. This meant that it would be impractical for individual students to return home, and then make the same trip again once the festival finally began. Anyone who chose to ship themselves back to their home kingdoms was most likely not coming back. The attendance for this year’s festival was projected to be far lower than any recent year.

For those foreign students who did stay in Vale, there was extracurricular courses offered. Taking a full month away from schoolwork was not acceptable. Though they might not be at their native combat school, the foreign students were encouraged to attend classes that might pertain to their chosen courses. It was a painfully awkward situation for the teachers of Beacon Academy. It seemed as though the extra-kingdom students were either far ahead of the curriculum, or far behind. Trying to match up all of the new students was becoming very stressful.

Even in the cafeteria, the strain of the bolstered population could be felt. Students were forced to sit shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip on the table benches. Sitting on the ends meant sitting half-off the ends. The walkways in between tables were congested. The lines to the food bars were wrapped almost twice around the inner-perimeter of the cafeteria. As a result, the lunch break had been extended to over three times the normal length. This only added to the difficulties that the school’s staff had to endure.

Team RWB and JNPR were sitting across from each other. The only reason why they had managed to procure a table was because Jaune had the foresight to send Nora ahead to find a spot. When they had caught up, Nora was laying eagle spread across the table. She punched, kicked, and growled at anyone who tried to sit by her. Jaune received a foot to the ribs before she realized it was him. Then he got another one because he made a funny sound the first time.

Having sat down, the seven teenagers ate and chatted over the pandemonium.

They conversed over nothing important. They spoke about the festival, about the foreigners, about the tournament and who they were hoping to fight. Jaune seemed happy to avoid fighting anyone notoriously strong. Ruby complained loudly that all of the cookies were gone by the time she had made it through the dinner line. Blake grumbled over the noise pollution while massaging her bow. There was a strange empty space in their conversation, like a voice missing.

Ruby was twirling a length of pasta noodles around her fork. Her meal of spaghetti and meatballs was halfway consumed, with red tomato paste smeared around the ceramic plate. Then she lifted her silver eyes from her food and noticed aloud, “Hey Jaune, why aren’t you wearing your medal?”

The knight instinctively glanced down at his uniform. Then he ran his fingers through the blonde hair on the back of his head. A sheepish grin spread across his young face, “Oh, um, I decided that I didn’t want to look bigheaded. So I left my medal back in my room, next to Pyrrha’s.”

Nobody was surprised that the red-headed Spartan had eschewed her award this morning. Wearing her medal would be paramount to congratulating herself, which was something that Pyrrha has made every single possible effort to avoid. Immediately upon the award ceremony’s completion, the championess had removed the golden discus from her neck and carried it in her hand. Later, it would be packed carefully into a shipping box, and then sent to her family back home in Mistral. There, it would be placed inside a trophy cabinet, already creaking under the weight of her numerous other prizes and plaques.

A teetering tray of food swept above the table, forcing Team JNPR to duck one at a time as it passed overhead.

Weiss sniffed with disapproval, “Wearing the medal does not make you egotistical.” She pointed at the modest cleavage of her white undershirt, where her medal sat and reflected golden sunshine. “I’m wearing mine right now, see?”

“The very illustration of humility.”

“Sorry Blake, I couldn’t hear you over the racket.”

“It was nothing, Weiss.”

“I’m wearing my medal and Ren’s as well!” Nora was grinning from ear to ear as she held up, not one, but two golden medals. She lifted one, “This one is mine,” then the same for the other, “and this one is Ren’s. He said it was making his neck sore, so I relieved his burden.”

Ruby arched an eyebrow. Silver eyes darted back and forth. The medals were perfectly identical. She quizzed, “How can you keep the two apart?”

Turquoise eyes rolled so hard her ginger head followed. Nora explained, “That’s an easy one. I put sloth stickers on the back of my medal.”

Flipping them backwards, the carroty Viking revealed her choice of decorations. One medal was adorned with stickers of Nora’s favorite land animal, the sloth. The other medal was furbished with a sticker of a green tree. Her toothy grin widened even further as she showcased her artistic creativity.

Weiss exploded as she stabbed a finger at the ornaments, “Those medals are ceremonial badges of prestige, bestowed upon decorated heroes in recognition of their distinguished service! They are _not_ sticker books!”

Smirking victoriously, Nora taunted, “Yer’ jess jealous ‘cause now my medal is prettier than yours.”

An offended harrumph, “I’m not jealous!”

Then Team RWB scooched forward in their seats, allowing a number of student to pass through the overcrowded walkway behind them. Weiss felt someone’s rear end bump against the back of her snow-capped head.

The next person to speak was Pyrrha. Her fork was violently impaling her salad leaves. Her head was bowed down. Forest green eyes were low and the corners of her mouth were downturned. Bright red eyebrows bunched together.

When she spoke, Pyrrha’s voice was shaded darkly, “The _real_ reason why Jaune isn’t wearing his medal is because of how harshly Professor Ozpin admonished him; just for showing the _merest_ amount of pride for his heroism.” Her fork speared a cherry tomato and she crushed it between her teeth.

The table fell silent for a moment. Then Ruby cleared her throat and nervously said, “Wow Pyrrha, I haven’t heard you sound this angry since the time Cardin bullied Jaune.”

Speaking up from her tuna salad, Blake questioned Team JNPR, “You guys got a disheartening sermon from Ozpin as well?”

Jaune objected, “It wasn’t like that, not really.” The swordsman ducked his blond head beneath another precariously balanced platter. Then he detailed, “Here’s what happened: after the ceremony, I was patting myself on the back pretty hard.”

“You are allowed to be proud of yourself, Jaune.” Another cherry tomato met its end sandwiched between enamel grinders.

Wearing a wiry smile, “You should try it too sometime, Pyrrha. Anyways, I _was_ doing it kinda loudly. I said, ‘I can’t wait to start earning more medals’ or something.”

Interrupting the blond boy, Nora interjected her version of the story. With a deeply dramatic voice, she hollered, “Then Ozpin swooped in from out of thin air, like the vampire-lord Count Dracula!”

Always one to provide a helpful translation, Lie Ren sieved the imagined sequence of events through a literalistic filter, “Headmaster Ozpin walked toward us from down the hall. We could hear him approaching because of his cane.”

Nora leaped up and planted one foot on top of the table. The sudden movement caused a poor passerby spilled their food in surprise. Pyrrha apologized to the student. The fiery ginger wrapped her arm around her face, her nose in the crook of her elbow. Her turquoise eyes scythed through her captive audience. She continued unimpeded by Ren’s commentary, “And then he laughed and said, ‘Bwa-ha-ha! I’m going to suck all the fun out of the room, blah!’ and tore Jaune’s heart into shreds. Afterwards, he vanished into pitch-dark shadows while cackling maniacally.”

RWBY looked at JNPR’s sane man. Ren interpreted thusly, “He delivered a poignant lecture on conviction, and then strolled through a dimly lit pathway toward the gardens.”

Nora thundered her voice for the jaw-dropping finale, “Pyrrha was glaring at him as he left!”

“Pyrrha,” Magenta eyes blinked in momentary mystification, “was glaring at him as he left.”

Crossing her arms and grinning widely, Nora dropped back into her seat. The sudden movement sent an unfortunate passerby tumbling to the floor, spilling their tray of food. Pyrrha apologized to the prone student.

Jaune objected, “You guys are blowing it completely out of proportion. What the Headmaster told me was this.” He cleared his throat and tried to imitate Ozpin’s manner of speech, “You mustn’t make trinkets your motivation. Such shallow conviction will not hold fast in dark times.” Returning to his normal shrill voice, “Ozpin didn’t rip me apart, he just set me straight.”

With a knife in hand, Pyrrha was filleting her smoked salmon. Her plate was populated with olives, cheeses, and yogurt topped with honey-glazed nuts. Beside her plate, slices of _pita_ bread were paired with _hummus_. She frowned, “Professor Ozpin granted us awards, then immediately afterwards tells us that they are mere trinkets.”

“Yeah, he told me that medals have no value.” Ruby recalled.

“Well,” Weiss began, “that’s where the Headmaster is _wrong_.”

Team RB and JNPR gave the heiress their full attention.

Weiss crossed one leg over the other and held her medal in her hands. Cerulean eyes stared at the back of the metal discus, peering at her golden reflection. She set her narrow chin firmly, unyielding with belief in her own conviction.

“When I enrolled in Beacon Academy, I did so with the goal of becoming a Huntress. I wished to bring honor to the Schnee family name. I wanted to prove that the Schnee are not _all_ tyrannical tycoons. The Schnee name is _more_ than just what my father has made it. By hunting the creatures of Grimm in service of the people, I would demonstrate our capacity for kindness and understanding.”

Then Weiss pointed her medal toward everyone at the table. She continued, “ _This medal_ is proof that I am progressing toward my goal. I have been awarded _this medal_ for my heroic deeds, which is something that cannot be said about my father. _This medal_ was _not_ bought, it was _earned_. _This medal_ is _concrete evidence_ that I am bringing honor to the Schnee family name. It is _not_ a meaningless trinket, like the Headmaster says it to be. It means something, at least to me it does.”

The diminutive Huntress let the medal hang from her slender neck and crossed her arms in defiance. She harrumphed, “If Ozpin believes that his own medals are meaningless trinkets, then that is his opinion. But he cannot tell anyone that their medals are worthless. Just because he is older and wiser does not mean his belief invalidates mine. Old men telling people what to think is the very thing I _hate_ most in this world.”

Weiss was met with applause from her audience. She started smirking just before another person walked by and bumped their bum against the back of her head. Her proud expression was immediately replaced with scowl. She bleated miserably, “Can we _please_ take this conversation outside? That’s the second time someone rubbed their posterior against my hair!”

Everyone nodded their head in agreement. Nora threw her hands up in the air and cried out, “To the great outdoors!” The sudden movement sent yet one more student tumbling to the floor, causing them to lose their tray in the process. Pyrrha apologized to the student as they lay on their face.

* * *

 

The sun shone directly down upon the grassy courtyard, warming the topmost leaves upon the trees. White, fluffy clouds sailed through the blue skies. Outside the dining hall, there were cookout grills sizzling over open fires. The mouth-watering aroma of the barbeque wafted though the air. Around the emerald field, students sat together upon picnic blankets and enjoyed freshly cooked hot dogs, hamburgers, steaks, and chicken wings.

Lifting her nose to the air, Pyrrha breathe in the bouquet of smells. Forest green eyes widened as the Mistralian exclaimed, “What is that scent? I don’t think I’ve ever smelled that before.”

Walking beside her, Jaune sniffed the air. Then he said, “That’s the smell of a barbeque cookout. Just like how my Dad does it at home.” Then he gave a start and exclaimed, “Pyrrha! Are you telling me you’ve never had barbeque before?” His blue eyes fixated upon the Spartan.

Shaking her crimson ponytail, Pyrrha explained that, “Traditional Mistral cuisine is mostly vegetables, fish, and various cheeses. There’s a lot more to it, but nothing quite like what I smell now. I have to say, it smells delicious.”

An outrageously offended expression landed upon the blond teenager’s face. “That’s completely unacceptable! We have to show you we cook in Vale! C’mon _mademoiselle_ , let’s get you a cheeseburger!” He extended his hand toward Pyrrha and beckoned at her excitedly.

She shook her head even harder than before. A panicky smile spread along her face as she quickly tried to refuse, “No, no, no, Jaune. I shouldn’t eat anymore. I just had a well-portioned and healthy meal. I don’t need to fill my stomach with anything else.”

Hand still outstretched, Jaune smiled impishly, “You know I’m not going to drop this. I’m really persistent, remember?”

Weiss sighed, “He is _really_ persistent.”

Pyrrha’s smile widened as she looked at Jaune’s inviting hand. Then she reached her own hand out and placed it inside Jaune’s. His fingers wrapped around her hand. Their fingers interlaced. The Spartan let herself get pulled along by the young blond. Her cheeks were the same color as her hair.

Ruby watched with narrowed silver eyes as the boy and girl strolled away, hand in hand. She stoked her chin thoughtfully and murmured, “Susp- _i_ -cious…”

After walking for a bit, Teams RWB and NR found a spot to sit underneath a large oak tree. Weiss insisted that it must have shade. For a while, they simply sat and enjoyed the fresh air. None of the five spoke to each other. The strange emptiness was felt stronger now. There was a certain someone absent, someone who always acted as the catalyst for conversation. Ruby sprawled underneath the shade of the tree, laying on top of her red cloak and watching the sunlight sparkle as it passed through rustling leaves. Weiss sat on a root and looked out at Beacon Academy’s central spire, her fingers absentmindedly sliding along the smooth surface of her medal. Blake lay across the lowermost branch of the tree, amber eyes closed as she drifted off into deep thought. Ren sat in a meditative pose, keeping a watchful eye on Nora as she climbed higher and higher up the tree, making decidedly un-sloth-like sounds as she ascended.

It was peaceful. Almost painfully so.

Eventually, Pyrrha and Jaune caught up to the other five. In Pyrrha’s hands was a paper plate with a grandiose cheeseburger. It had layers consisting of melted cheese, crisp lettuce, sour pickles, red tomato slices, purple onions, and of course a fat meat patty bursting with flavor. Copious amounts of mustard, ketchup, and mayonnaise acted as glue between the honeyed yellow buns.

The two sat underneath the shade along with their friends. Jaune was grinning from ear to ear as Pyrrha stared at the intimidating burger on her plate. She began to speak slowly, “This is much bigger than I expected it to be. This is a whole meal. Not a very healthy one I might add.”

The Spartan looked up from the awe inspiring sandwich and saw four pairs of eyes trained upon her. Ruby, Weiss, Jaune, and Nora were all watching eagerly for Pyrrha’s baptism by grease. Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes became wide, like a rabbit spotting a predator. She gave a short, nervous laugh and asked, “Why is everyone watching me?”

Ruby answered, “Because it’s fun introducing friends to new things. We just want to see your reaction.” Silver eyes shone with anticipation.

“Is it too late for me to back out?”

Weiss spoke up, “This is exactly what the dunces did to me when they found out I had never had pizza before. I want to see this from the opposite perspective.” Cerulean eyes glimmered as she smirked.

Slinging herself beneath a lower tree branch, Nora hung upside-down by her arms and legs. Her orange hair was pointed straight down, away from her shoulders. “Take a bite an’ chew it!”

“Chew—it!” Jaune chanted.

“Chew—it!” Ruby chanted.

“Chew—it!” Weiss chanted.

Finally, the redhead gave into peer pressure and grabbed the burger. Her fingers sank into the pillow-like texture of the buns. She opened her mouth and took a huge bite. Immediately, the hamburger patty burst with juices that overflowed from the corners of her mouth. Pyrrha’s eyes widened and she threw her head forward, trying to stop the fluids from falling on her school uniform. She quickly wiped at her chin and neck. Her cheeks were puffed with the amount of burger she had shoved in her mouth. Hoots and giggles filled the air at the sight. Watching the four time Mistral national tournament championess struggle to defeat a single burger was the height of hilarity.

Pyrrha swallowed the oversized mouthful with difficulty. Then she wiped at her jaw with her fingers. Six pairs of eyes watched her carefully as the Spartan regained her composure.

“Well?” Jaune asked.

A pink tongue darted out from between full lips and licked at the grease sticking to her chin. Then Pyrrha giggled a high-pitched, girlish giggle that sounded like heavenly chimes. Forest green eyes shone as she declared, “That was _delicious!_ I wasn’t expecting the meat to be so juicy. Thank you, Jaune, for introducing me to Valean cuisine.” Then she glanced down at the cheeseburger on her plate, “But I am _not_ going to be able to finish this. I’m certain that I would get sick to my stomach if I tried to down two full meals.”

“That’s alright,” Jaune allowed, “I just want to show you things that you’ve missed out on. Things like, going to an amusement park. Have you been to one of those?”

Tilting her head thoughtfully, Pyrrha answered, “I was too young the last time to remember anything now.”

“This is exactly the kind of things we need to get started on doing after the festival! Anyone else have any ideas?” Jaune looked at RWB and JN.

Nora put her hands together as though she were brandishing a pistol. She pointed her fingers at everyone and hollered at the top of her lungs, “Laser tag!”

Ruby piped up with, “Baking cookies!” She began to shovel handfuls of imaginary treats in her mouth.

Weiss suggested, “Visit an art museum.” Team RN groaned.

Leaping from tree branch to tree branch, Nora exclaimed, “Running _jumps_ through sprinklers!”

Ruby held her hands in front of her eyes like binoculars, “Scavenger hunts!”

Ren inserted while sitting, “Cookouts.”

Nora shrieked while she performed more acrobatics in the oak, “Silly string fight!”

Ruby clapped her hands together with excitement, “Building pillow and blanket forts!”

Blake added with a lethargic tone of voice, “Reading a book in the sun.”

Sun threw in, “Stealing stuff.”

Everyone turned and looked up in the tree. Hanging upside-down by his prehensile tail was the stowaway from Mistral, Sun Wukong.

The blond faunus grinned from ear to ear as all eyes landed on him. He was certainly a sight to behold, with short and spiky hair, bronze skin, and glimmering eyes as grey as smoke. Sun’s attire was completely casual, with sneakers and blue cargo jeans rolled up to his ankles. A length of chain trailed from a belt loop on his pants. Crimson wrist bracers adorned his muscular arms. He wore a white jacket with a popped collar and nothing underneath. The jacket was completely open, baring his firm pectorals and rock-hard abs to the appreciation of every woman and man with functioning eyes. A golden medallion swung from his neck.

Sun held a number of fruits in his arms. Unable to wave, he simply said, “Hello ladies.” Then he glanced beneath him at the Asian martial artist, “And Ren.”

Jaune was silent for a second, then realization dawned. “Hey!” he exclaimed in offense and crossed his arms. Pyrrha took one look at his outraged expression and dissolved into giggles. She ran her fingers through Jaune’s blond hair in an attempt to placate him. He leaned in and rested his head on the Spartan’s shoulder, his limbs still intertwined tightly.

The greeting was returned with a chorus of, “Hi Sun!” and “Hello again.” and “Did you pay for those fruits?”

Grinning wickedly, Sun replied to Weiss’ accusation, “If you’re so smart, then why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” The heiress frowned in disapproval.

The monkey turned his head around in search of his fellow faunus. He quickly spotted the cat draped across her branch and called out enthusiastically, “What’s up Blake!”

Raising her brunette head slightly, Blake responded with a soft, “Hey.” Her chin rested on her slender arms, her yellow slitted eyes observing the scene through half-closed lids.

Still hanging upside-down, Sun proceeded to take a red apple from his bundle and bite into it. With a mouth full of fruit, he chatted up the slothful feline. “So, you are going to be stuck with me for a full month! I still haven’t seen Vale when it isn’t being blown up, so maybe you could show me around the city?”

The black bow on her head twitched. “Don’t you have classes now?” she murmured sleepily.

Swallowing his morsel, Sun proceeded to kick off the trunk of the oak and flipped through the air. He landed on his feet and sat down with his legs crossed, all in one graceful motion. He deposited his remaining purloined produce into his lap. “I’ve never been able to sit in a classroom for long stretches. The teachers back in Haven always call me ‘Get Down From The Ceiling Sun’. Neptune just takes notes and lets me read ‘em.”

Upon hearing the name of the blue-haired youth, Weiss twisted her head back and forth. Her silken hair swept around as she searched for Sun’s handsome partner. When she failed to locate him, Weiss turned to Sun and asked, “Where is Neptune, by the way?”

Sun patted his chiseled abs while replying, “He’s in downtown Vale, picking us up some grub from a noodle shop.”

The diminutive heiress knuckled her hips, “You’re making your partner walk all the way to some cheap restaurant in the shady part of town? Is he your pack mule? How is he supposed to make it back in time?”

Grey eyes blinked uncertainly. Then Sun threw his head back and laughed, “Oh man, you guys don’t know. I guess I sound like an asshole, since you have no idea.”

Tilting her milky crown curiously, “What don’t we know about Neptune?”

The monkey grinned cheekily as he insinuated, “Let’s just say that Neptune is the kind of guy that _really gets around_. You know what I mean?” He waggled his yellow eyebrows suggestively.

Six pairs of wide eyes were looking at Sun. Green, Turquoise, Blue, Yellow, and Magenta stared at Grey with growing dismay. Cerulean was filling with devastating heartbreak.

Silver pondered for a moment. Then she ventured slowly, “So you mean to say that Neptune’s Semblance is teleportation.”

Grey beamed at Silver, “You got it, chipmunk!”

A chorus of lengthy ‘Oh’s rose from the rest of the group. Nora sniggered, “Well that’s not _at all_ what I thought he was saying.”

Weiss placed her hand over her heart and sighed in relief.

Plucking from his stolen bounty, Sun tossed a green pear underhanded toward Ruby. “Nice deduction. Your prize is a pear.”

The pear landed in Ruby’s hands. She brushed it against her sleeve, and then bit off a chunk with a _crunch_. The sweet juices filled her mouth and she grinned, “I am a genius!”

Blake rose to a sitting position, her legs dangling beneath the branch. She smirked in triumph as she realized the answer to a puzzle. “So, _that’s_ how Neptune got up by our window.”

Laughter exploded from the monkey-faunus. He threw his head back and howled, “Neptune is so scared of heights! I think he gets dizzy walking down stairs! His landing strategy is to teleport _straight down!”_

That’s when his jeans began to buzz. Sun retrieved his scroll from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. “Speak of the nerd, and he shall appear.” He pressed his scroll and brought it to his ear, “Wazzup Neptune? You got the grub?”

The seven Hunters could only listen to one side of the conversation.

“You made sure that my food was vegetarian, right? Okay thanks.”

“I’m at Beacon, with RWBY and JNPR.”

“Exactly? Uh… in one of the courtyards.”

“ _I don’t know_ which courtyard! Are they numbered or something?”

“I’ll calm down when I’m not starving! You can freaking _teleport_ , why did it take you so long to get the food?”

“Okay, okay, okay, I’ll send you a pan pic of the where I’m at! Just gimme a min!”

Sun began to fiddle with the touch-screen on his scroll. Ruby looked to the side and almost choked on her pear in surprise. The very moment that Sun mentioned taking a picture, Weiss had produced a cosmetics kit and was already reapplying her make-up. With practiced execution, the heiress anointed her porcelain skin with flawless amount of foundation, blush, lipstick, and eyeliner. Witnessing the process was reminiscent of watching a racing car’s pit crew in action. Then Weiss knelt in the grass and positioned herself with the perfect arrangement to accentuate her poise and grace. Icy blue eyes stared off at some faraway fantasy, soft lips graced with a picturesque smile. Grinning mischievously, the red-cloaked youth sidled up behind her unmoving partner.

With Blake coaching him from her branch, Sun found the camera on his scroll and set it to panoramic mode. He held the scroll up to eye level and swept it in a full circle around, capturing the entire courtyard and all of its inhabitants. An instant before the lens found the seven friends, Ruby hooked her fingers in the corners of Weiss’s mouth and stretched.

“Alright, now to send Neptune this photo!” Sun shouted over Ruby’s strangled cries for help.

He pressed “send” and sat down to wait.

Half a minute later, a patch of air at the foot of the tree began to twist and warp. Then it _popped_ and the second foreigner from Mistral appeared in its place. Weiss immediately relinquished her death-grip from Ruby’s throat and returned to her previous formal pose. Ruby stared up at the sunlight filtering through the leaves, her silver orbs mirroring the scenic view. Wearing a mournful expression, Jaune slid his hand down the fifteen-year-old’s lifeless face, closing her vacant eyes.

Neptune Vasilias’s most striking features were his pearly teeth and cyan, spiked hairstyle. Yellow aviator goggles were held to his forehead. He was wearing a burgundy jacket with belt buckles strapped along his forearms. Emblazoned on his back was a silver reticule. Beneath the maroon blazer were a white buttoned-up shirt and a loose tie. There were armored pads buckled to his upper thighs.

He was holding two large Styrofoam containers. Sun leapt to his feet and ran over to his friend. Neptune handed one to the monkey-faunus. He pulled out a paper receipt and said, “You owe me seven-fifteen lien for your veggie noodles.”

The blond popped open the carton containing his lunch and drew in a deep sniff. Steam rose from the freshly cooked meal and filled his nostrils. Golden yellow noodles caressed tender orange carrots, crunchy white cabbage, and succulent green broccoli.

Sighing in satisfaction, Sun responded, “You can add that to my tab.”

Neptune raised an eyebrow, “You mean the tab you never intend to pay?”

“That’s the one!”

With a deep sigh of exasperation, Neptune followed his friend to the group. As he approached, the blue-haired boy laid his azure eyes on the waiting heiress. During the conversation between Sun and Neptune, Weiss had re-reapplied the lipstick that Ruby had ruined. The beautiful heiress was kneeling in the shade like a young fawn, dapples of sunshine playing across her alabaster skin. An elegant expression graced her smooth face. Looking up at Neptune, she smiled lightly; the morning light sparkling in her sapphire orbs.

Smirking like a criminal, Neptune greeted Weiss with, “It’s a pleasure to see you, snow angel.”

Batting her long, curled lashes at him, “Hello, Neptune.”

“Gurgle.” gurgled Ruby from her prone position.

Speaking loudly over the complaining corpse, Weiss explored, “I see that you have teleportation for a Semblance. That’s a very impressive ability. What kind of limits does it have?”

Neptune crossed his arms in front of his crimson flight jacket and explained smugly, “I have a range of about one mile at a time. I can only make jumps to places I can see, which is why Sun had to take the picture. Also, I can only carry one passenger.”

“So you can take one girl anywhere she would like to go? That’s a very _attractive_ quality.” Cerulean eyes flashed as she emphasized the adjective.

“Maybe I could take you to the city,” he smirked handsomely, “and you could show this foreigner the sights?”

Rolling his grey eyes, Sun turned his attention away from the flirting and glanced around the gathering of nine. Finally, he noticed that there was one blonde missing from the ensemble.

“Hey guys, where’s Yang at?”

Seven simultaneous sighs expelled like a sudden tire leak. Seven pairs of eyes stared downward as the as-of-yet unspoken name was finally uttered. Silence fell, as if a dark cloud hovered over seven heads. Even Nora became noiseless. Neptune and Sun stood next to each other and shared a perplexed glance.

Ruby broke the silence. She sat up and crossed her lithe legs. Her voice was small. “Yang is probably at the gym, punching her way through _whatever_ has gotten into her.”

Concern flitted across Sun’s face, “Is something the matter?”

Blake replied despondently, “The answer is yes, but we don’t know the problem.” She lied back on the branch, slitted amber eyes gazed skyward. Ebony tresses rippled beneath her like window curtains catching a morning breeze.

Cerulean eyes furrowed as Weiss elaborated, “This morning, Yang woke up screaming and crying for no apparent reason. She grabbed her gym clothes and practically broke the door down on her warpath out of the dorm. She hasn’t come back yet.”

“Did you guys try to go after her?” Neptune asked.

Pyrrha spoke up, “We heard the commotion across the hall and tried to intervene. But Yang shouted at everyone to leave her alone.”

Nora piped up with, “She used a bad word.”

“One that you will not repeat.” Ren sternly insisted. He fixated a strict stare upon his partner in pink. She sucked her lips between her teeth and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Scratching his blond hair, Sun questioned, “Do you guys have any idea of what could cause her to blow up like that?”

“I thought I knew the reason,” Ruby muttered, “but it doesn’t make any sense anymore. I’ve seen Yang get mad after she loses a fight. But never has she actually lost her temper like this. I’ve never seen her yell at her friends.”

Her tiny chin dropped to her chest. Silver eyes full of worry, landed on her knees. Her tender voice was brittle as she murmured, “She’s never yelled at me before.”

“Maybe you should find her and make her talk about what’s troubling her?” Neptune suggested.

Ren began, “Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons…”

Nora finished, “…For you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup!”

“Yeah,” Jaune dragged his nails across the back of his head nervously, “we haven’t finished constructing the fallout shelter.”

Raising her black cherry crown, Ruby divulged, “The tried and true method for Yang has always been to leave her alone for a while and let her cool her head. She’ll come back in a little while, ready to apologize, and things will get back to normal.” Then weakly, “I hope.”

Weiss sniffed indifferently, “She had better have a good explanation for her behavior. She burned her bed sheets again. I swear the stench is never going to leave that room.”

Ruby shot a look of frustration at her partner and protested, “Why are you so cold, Weiss? Don’t you care about Yang?”

Weiss inspected her perfectly manicured nails, “Of course I care. But I’m not going to let Yang’s poor attitude ruin my day. She is just throwing a tantrum because she lost a fight. I lost my fight as well, but I’m not acting like an immature child!”

“What if Yang is acting this way because of some other reason?”

“Like what?” The heiress demanded, “We’ve been spending _all of our time_ together for the past three days, during and after the mission! There is literally _no opportunity_ for Yang to have found something new to upset her. If she had discovered such a thing, we would have been right beside her.” She stabbed an index finger in the palm of her other hand, “The only logical reason Yang is distressed is the fact that she lost her fight. That is no excuse for her behavior, and I will not baby your sister just because she’s mad about losing.”

Silver eyes drooped as the sense of Weiss’s words crashed upon her.

A soft _crunch_ sounded as Blake descended from her wooden perch. Her knees pistoned to her chest as she landed, absorbing the fall with catlike grace. Her black hair swirled like a dark tornado as it fell upon lean shoulders. The feline-faunus rose up. Yellow eyes, like pools of gold, regarded everyone simultaneously. She gave a curt nod, the corners of her mouth perked. Then she pivoted on her heels and began to saunter away.

“Hey!” Weiss called out, “Where are you going, Blake?”

The bow-wearing brunette was still gliding away. Just before she left earshot, she spoke scarcely loud enough to be heard, “To ask Yang what’s troubling her.”


	17. Tempered Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake is looking for Yang. Yang is looking for a fight. Both find what they're looking for.

Beacon Academy’s gymnasium was as impressive as the rest of the school. It boasted of eighty thousand square feet beneath a soaring ceiling that was supported by tremendously tall stone columns. Concentric running tracks circled the perimeter of the gym. Where Blake had entered, she could see countless exercise equipments, ranging from mundane treadmills and weights to machinery that she couldn’t even name, let alone fathom their purpose. Further out, enormous stone cliffs towered above the exercise floor. Blake could spot a number of students scaling those walls, some of them without any climbing equipment. In the distance, Blake could spy numerous combat pits where students were encouraged to practice their fighting techniques. There were even two outdoor swimming pools, although they were restricted for exercise purposes rather than playtime. The restrictions were lifted during blistering summer days.

The sheer size and scope of the gym never failed to astound Blake. The combat school spared absolutely no expense when it came to training generations of Hunters. It must have been like discovering a magical wonderland, the first time Yang had seen Beacon’s gym. She wondered if Yang had felt the same electric excitement entering this space that the bookworm felt when she had first entered the marvelous library.

As soon as the faunus stepped inside, she was struck in the nostrils with a sour reminder of why she  _did not_ enjoy indoor exercise centers. Her nose hairs curdled with the stench of hundreds of sweaty Hunters in training. She almost gagged. Tears burned in her amber eyes. Why couldn’t Yang have chosen to vent her frustrations in a nice flower garden?

Blinking back tears, Blake ventured into the spacious gymnasium. She stopped in front of the jogging tracks and watched as runners flew by. Across the tracks was a pedestrian crosswalk. There was a traffic light beside the intersection with a stop button. The moment Blake pressed the button, the traffic light turned red. Runners immediately halted behind the crosswalk and jogged in place, patiently waiting as Blake hurried over the zebra crossing.

The sounds that echoed off the tall ceiling were too numerous to describe. It was a constant thundering that hammered Blake’s feline ears, even through the bow’s thick fabric. She wanted to press her hands over her ears to keep the noise out, but that would have been too suspicious. Instead, Blake gritted her teeth and chose to endure the assault on her senses.

Under normal circumstances, the gym was commodious enough to accommodate the population of students. But right now, with all of the extra students from all other combat schools, the floor was completely overwhelmed. There was so many people that it seemed as though every exercise machine was in use. Finding Yang in this bedlam would be a colossal accomplishment.

The best place to start searching would be somewhere with a good vantage point. Blake immediately turned her head toward the rock climbing walls.

Within minutes, Blake was kneeling on top of the tallest wall. There was much complaining below her coming from the climbers. The ones who complained the loudest were probably the ones that the faunus had jumped on while leaping her way to the top. It was probably not in the spirit of the exercise to use other people as stepping stones, but Blake wasn’t here for the workout.

From above, she could see throngs of students. The whole gym sprawled out beneath Blake; a vast canvas splattered with every color of paint. There were so many people moving around, each one wearing different clothing with different colors. It was a rioting palette of hues and shades. To human eyes, it would be blinding chaos; all colors of the spectrum swirling together like a tie dye pattern. But for the brunette faunus, everything was crisp and clear.

Her slitted eyes narrowed as she focused on discerning  _yellow_  from the writhing tapestry of interweaving crowds. This only narrowed down her search, but not by a significant amount. In order to find her blonde partner, Blake was going to have to search in areas where Yang was most likely to be.

The first place was the punching bags. There were a lot of people beating up sacks of sand, and plenty of them were blonde. Blake immediately disregarded anyone who didn’t have waist length hair. Then she spent time judging each remaining candidates. None of them had the iconic cowlick that topped Yang’s golden crown. Blake could not see her partner at the punching bags.

The next place was the combat arenas. Blake rotated her eyes in that direction. Each arena was a circular pit dug six meters down with an eight meter diameter. This gave combatants sufficient room to maneuver, while allowing for the most intense battles to be contained by the reinforced walls around them. They were like miniaturized versions of the arena in the amphitheater. From up high, Blake could see inside most of the rings, except for the furthest ones.

There was plenty of yellow rampaging inside those pits. Gouts of fire erupted from trenches. Blinding bolts of electricity, cast from yellow Dust, arced through the air. Glowing sparks jettisoned from the repeated impact of metal against metal.

Burning golden flames blossomed from the bottom of one particular pit, like a fiery marigold. It bloomed and climbed before its petals wilted into black smoke. An all-too familiar roar rose above and triumphed over the din. Feline ears flicked in recognition. Blake stood up and stepped off the edge of the cliff. The climbers below wailed in horror, one at a time.

She quickly zeroed in on the pit where she had spotted Yang’s Semblance. A huge mob had gathered around that specific arena, shouting and hollering like wild canines smelling fresh blood. Stealing through the crowd, like a thread through the eye of a needle, the dark haired feline approached the ring. Upon arrival, she stood on the edge of the pit and glanced down.

Immediately, she laid eyes on Yang Xiao Long, who was locked in combat with a man twice her size.

The blonde bruiser was not decked out in her normal combat clothes. Instead, she was wearing a pure white tank that bared her midriff. Amber eyes lingered over her exposed abdomen, ripples of muscle beneath sweat salted skin. The shirt was loose enough to see Yang’s canary yellow low-cut sports top. The active wear compressed the dragoness’s breasts; while pushing the twin globes up and together like an invitation for roaming eyes to plunge into her welcoming valley.

Tearing away from her partner’s cleavage, Blake’s eyes traced the indentions along Yang’s well-developed limbs. The muscles of her biceps were corded steel, coiled bundles packed with enough explosive strength to shatter tree trunks bare-handed.

Capri yoga pants clung to her legs, granting the taut tendons definition. The black leggings did very little to conceal the sculpted marble that were Yang’s thighs. The soft fabric formed around the blonde bombshell’s shapely posterior. On the left ass cheek was Yang’s crest, a yellow heart set ablaze. The feline faunus continued to soak in the sights through wandering eyes.

The boxer was hopping in place, ducking and weaving while a throwing a blurring flurry of fists. Each lightning fast jab cast shimmering drops of perspiration from her elbows and knuckles. Golden tresses whorled around her face like solar flares arcing from the surface of the sun. Sweat glistened across her brow, causing sulfur-yellow strands to stick to her forehead. A hand mopped along her face, wiping salt away from her eyes.

They were blood red rubies, burning with the intensity of a wild inferno.

Yang opened her mouth and sucked in a heavy breath. She craned her head and shoulders back. Then she threw her upper torso forward and roared at the top of her lungs.

“Let’s get it  _on!”_

Ember Celica unfolded with a series of  _clanks_ , enveloping her fists with tempered steel. The dragoness slammed her twin shotgun-gauntlets together and the air pulsed with the rampant power. Yang’s opponent took a step back as the overpressure wave crashed over his body. It was a classic opening move for the dragoness. Staggering the enemy with an invisible wall of air, then going in for the kill. Blake has seen her partner perform the technique many times in the past.

The fight was over then and there. Yang exploited her adversary’s momentary loss of balance by leaping forward and closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Her fiery mane trailed behind like a comet tail. She pulled her fist back to her ear and, with a shout, buried it into the man’s solar plexus. His upper body bowed around Yang’s hand. A muffled  _bumph_  sounded from Ember Celica’s muzzle as she unloaded a round directly into his torso. The man’s Aura flared, then failed.  She pulled her gauntlet back to her ear, grey vapor rising from the barrel. Yang’s opponent staggered backwards and clapped both hands over his trunk. A billow of smoke leaked from between his fingers. His face contorted in pain. Then he collapsed on the floor of the arena, groaning through gritted teeth.

A gurney was lowered into the pit by ropes and pulleys. A pair of nurses jumped down and helped the defeated opponent walk to the stretcher. He fell prone on the stretcher and was lifted out of the arena.

Raising the fist that won the battle, the dragoness roared skyward. The mass of people crowded around the arena joined her with shouting and booing. Blake noticed wads of lien being passed around, slapped into awaiting palms by reluctant losers.

_“How long has Yang been fighting, if there’s this many people gambling on her?”_

Basking in her victory, Yang Xiao Long strolled around the bottom of the ring and listened to the screams of the crowd. The ceiling lights shone upon her sweat slicked skin. The blonde boxer was practically pearlescent. Amber eyes narrowed as Blake noticed how hard her partner was breathing. Her ample bosom was heaving up and down as she gulped air like a landlocked fish. The faunus fished her scroll out of her blazer’s inner pocket and used it to read Yang’s Aura capacity.

It came to no surprise when she saw that the blonde’s Aura was nearly bottomed out; just a thin red slice at the end of a long empty bar.

_“Surely, that was her last fight?”_

Yang proved her wrong.

“That was easy!” Red eyes scythed through the crowd as she bellowed. “Who’s next? C’mon down! I’m ready for another fight! Won’t  _someone_   ** _meet me in the pit?!”_**

Blake shook her ebony crown.

Then she stepped off the edge and landed noiselessly behind the blonde. A roar of approval rose from the spectators.

Her back turned to the new arrival; Yang apparently thought the cheering was for her. She reached behind her head and gathered up her long locks into a tight bun. Then, with a flourish, Yang released her hair and let it explode from its confinement. Flaming strands of gold eddied around her head, framing her face like a luminous sunburst.

“So,” Blake announced her presence, “this is what you’ve been doing all day?”

Yang whirled around to face the familiar voice. Crimson met amber.

“Hey, Blake.” She greeted her partner, “What’re you doing here?” Unease flitted across her expression.

A dark eyebrow rose, “Wondering the same thing about you.”

“What does it  _look_  like I’m doing?” Yang snapped defensively. She bent over and put her hands on her knees for support.

Blake’s eyes scanned over the boxer’s body. She noted how Yang’s breaths were long and heavy; how red her face was; how her full lips were dry and cracked; how the muscles in her limbs trembled from physical exertion; how perspiration ran down her skin, leaving snail trails over her arms and breasts.

“You look like you’re running yourself into the ground.”

Sweat dripped off of Yang’s chin as she clenched her teeth. “I’m training, isn’t it obvious?”

“Yang, this is not how you train. I’ve seen you training, and this isn’t what you do. You need to take breaks between bouts to rest your body. You’re only  _hurting_  yourself.”

“I’m fine!” Yang snapped.

Blake leaned back on one leg and rested her hand on her hip. “You are most certainly  _not_  fine. You are so dehydrated that I can actually smell it. Now, let’s get out of the gym and find somewhere less rambunctious.”

Red eyes flashed. “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready!”

“You’re _ready_  to collapse where you stand.” Blake’s eyes were hard brass orbs.

The dragoness growled, “I’m not done fighting.”

“When will you be done?”

“When I lose!”

“Well then,” the feline began, “I suppose that means  _I’ll_  accept your challenge.”

Yang straightened her back and gave her partner a long, hard stare. She stabbed a finger at Blake’s school uniform and ridiculed, “Aren’t you a little overdressed to fight?”

Slender fingers clasped the brass buttons that ran down the wool blazer, unfastening them one after the other. Once the buttons were undone, the feline took hold of the blazer’s lapels and pulled them apart, baring the white cotton blouse beneath. Yang’s crimson eyes never left Blake. She worked her lean shoulders out of the jacket while shimmying her limber arms out of the long sleeves. Once Blake was free from its confinement, the blazer was casually thrown to the edge of the arena.

She pinched the ends of the red ribbon that circled her collar. Then she pulled on the tips and undid the band. That too was tossed aside with little consideration.  The dragoness watched the red strip as it fluttered to the floor.

Blake rolled the sleeves up her arms, leaving tight bands just below her shoulders. Her arms were not as beefy as Yang’s. The muscles were leaner, allowing greater flexibility. Blake had trained her muscles for endurance over might. If it came down to a contest of strength, it would be settled in seconds.

With a start, Yang realized that this was happening. She fell back into a fighting stance; both fists up while bouncing on the balls of her feet. Ember Celica sprang to life for what felt like the hundredth time today and extended up her forearms. She clenched her teeth, the line of her jaw jutted out. Blonde eyebrows gathered together like storm clouds. Her crimson orbs became narrow slits.

Long legs wrapped in black nylon carried the feline to the opposite end of the ring. There, she adopted her own fighting stance. One hand clenched in a reverse fist beside her ear. The other hand was shaped like a knife, the edge pointed directly toward her opponent. Blake’s left foot was forward while she rested her weight on her back leg.

That was when Yang noticed what was missing. “Hey, where’s Gambol Shroud?”

Blake responded with a matter-of-fact tone of voice, “In my locker.”

Incredulously, “You’re planning on fighting me bare-handed?”

“Not everyone is as helpless without their weapons as Ruby.”

“Why would you fight me without your weapon?” she practically shouted.

“Because,” Amber eyes locked with crimson, “I want to prove how badly you’re treating your body.“

A heated growl was the reply.

The two combatants stared at each other from opposite sides of the arena.

Yang hopped back and forth, inhaling and exhaling, clenching and unclenching her fists. Eyes burned like coals. The flames of her Semblance ignited anew. Tongues of fire licked down the rippling lengths of gold that spilled from the dragon’s crown. The temperature in the arena began to rise steadily.

Holding her stance perfectly still, the dark haired feline prepared for the oncoming inferno. This fight was not going to be like the training sessions in the past. Her partner was not smiling or cracking cringeworthy puns. She was focused entirely on the battle. She was tempered steel, a glowing yellow blade in a raging forge. But there was something wrong. The metal in Yang’s glare was warped by the heat. The dragoness was smoldering on the inside and out. Left in the furnace for too long, even steel can melt.

 _Something_  was making Yang this way. It was up to Blake to figure out what.

Drawing in a deep breath, the blonde boxer opened her mouth. She roared at the top of her lungs.

“You asked for  _this!”_

The golden gauntlets slammed into each other with tremendous force. A solid wall of air swelled from the impact and spread out in every direction. Blake couldn’t see it, but knew it was coming from experience. She held the blade edge of her leading hand in front of her body and projected her Aura in a quick burst. The surge of air crashed against Blake’s Aura and was split like a tsunami breaking upon a stone cliff. She maintained her stance as the blast swept on either side of her body.

As soon as the pressure subsided, Blake went on the offensive. She created a mirror image of herself, a shade, and sent it straight at Yang. Then she leaped after her shade, hiding behind it. The dragoness spun around, her hair winding around her head like a fire whirl, and swung a backhanded fist at the shade. The doppelganger dissolved into wisps of inky smoke. Had Blake been carrying any element of Dust on her, the shade could have been imbued with different properties. The feline darted inside the opening through Yang’s guard. She bent her elbow and thrust it like a spear into Yang’s torso. Not letting up on the pressure, Blake lifted one foot and stomped her heel on top of Yang’s lead foot, pinning it to the floor. She then fired a volley of punches and palm strikes into Yang’s stomach and ribs, her lean shoulders pumping as fast as she could. Teeth ground together as the shock of the impacts ran up her arms and down her spine. Sudden movement drew amber eyes left. Blake bound backwards just in time to clear Yang’s feral right hook. Ember Celica passed through the air in front of Blake’s nose. She gritted her teeth just before a stiff gust buffered against her face, the aftershock of Yang’s swing.

The dragoness has been fighting for quite a while now. Yang’s Semblance was still fired up from the collective damage of all of her previous matches. Blake could land blow after blow against Yang. But all it would take is one clean shot to take Blake out. The faunus was going to have to change her strategy.

Staggering backwards, Yang’s breathing was already bankrupt. She drew her arms up in front of her torso like a pair of shields. Drops of sweat fell from her elbows. Blake gathered her legs beneath her body and leaped off the ground. She somersaulted through the air and thrust both legs out like twin javelins, hammering Yang’s defense. The feline kicked off of Yang’s arms and landed a safe distance away. Her partner stumbled backwards, her movements sluggish. It would have been easy for Blake to continue her attack, but she let the opportunity pass.

“You’re a lot slower and less coordinated than usual, Yang.” She admonished. “Why don’t you take a break and rehydrate yourself before we go any further?”

A deafening roar heralded Yang’s counterassault. The blazing bruiser launched herself straight at her partner, Ember Celica leading the charge. Blake cast a shade to meet Yang halfway. She followed behind the doppelganger as though she were her own shadow. Yang threw her right fist straight through the shade’s face, only to meet no resistance. Blake ducked beneath the overextended arm and slipped into Yang’s guard again. She could attack anywhere from here. But instead of any of the exposed vital areas, Blake chose to drive her knuckles up into the meat of Yang’s right triceps. She struck twice, hard and fast with both hands, then fell back while leaving another shade in her place.

Yang grabbed her right arm with her left hand and blindly kicked the shade into oblivion. Her expression was stone hard as she tried to mask her pain. But the twitching of her clenched jaw and the red that spread across her face was evidence enough. She ground the heel of her palm into her right triceps, trying to massage the ache out of the muscle.

“Can’t you tell how much you’re hurting? Don’t you think you should stop before you damage yourself?”

“I don’t  _want to **think!”**_  Yang cried out. The faunus paused.

What was going through Yang’s head right now?

The boxer raised her fists up close to her torso. Then she dashed toward Blake, crimson eyes locked onto her opponent. She darted from side to side, bobbing and weaving her upper torso as she closed in. The force behind her charge was comparable to a freight train. Blake sent a shade toward the oncoming combatant. The instant Blake’s doppelganger came into close quarters, it was obliterated by a Remnant-shattering left hook.

Blake has seen those hands crumple steel. All it would take is one solid punch.

Yang hurtled forward and swung violently at the feline. Blake moved with liquid grace, twisting and angling her body around the barrage of wild punches. Amber eyes watched each gauntlet as they missed again and again. It was subtle, but Yang appeared to be favoring her left arm now. Then they dipped down, just in time to see Yang’s low kick. Blake skipped back away from the foot. Yang pointed Ember Celica behind her and fired, launching herself like a missile from a ballista.

A wall slammed into Blake’s shoulders as she ran into to the edge of the ring. Yang was on her in an instant, throwing a straight left punch toward Blake’s face. The brunette cocked her head to the side, just before Ember Celica could cave in her skull. Instead of teeth, the armored glove impacted the wall and left a dent.

_“Yang isn’t holding back in the slightest!”_

A quick stab into Yang’s left triceps was followed by an elbow to the same arm’s biceps. The dragoness hissed in hurt as she pulled her limb back. Then she tried to punch the feline with her right fist. Compared to all the speeds that Blake has seen that fist race, it was like watching a snail crawling through molasses. Blake turned her body to the side just before impact. Then she nailed the underside of the arm for the third and fourth time, the same exact spot as before. She could see the shape of the muscle shake with each strike.

Crimson eyes snapped open and the dragoness gritted her fangs, swallowing a howl that boiled in her throat. She pressed her attack, jabbing repeatedly at the feline with as much speed as she could muster in her throbbing muscles. Blake was bracketed in by the bombardment. Every attempt to escape to either side was deterred by another arm. She was forced to stay in a very tight area; walled by the edge of the ring, Yang’s sweat-soaked body, and the onslaught of fierce fists. The feline ducked and dipped, slipping around each punch as they hammered the wall against her back. It sounded like a church bell ringing with every blow. An irregular thrumming shook her spine as each impact caused the barrier to vibrate. The heat exploding from Yang’s body was  _beyond_  scorching. White blisters began to rise on Blake’s exposed skin.

White-hot agony erupted from Blake’s lateral flank. A near-miss was not a miss at all. Ember Celica grazed the skin beneath her hypochondrium. Blake’s Aura absorbed most of the impact. But it would have taken a titanic Aura capacity to completely stop Yang’s punches when her Semblance was as overcharged as it was now.

The faunus expelled a short gasp. But a lifetime of fighting for survival had granted her a superb pain tolerance. She would not falter. Any weakness would have prevented her counterattack. The feline shaped her fingers like a spade and jammed the tips into Yang’s outstretched arm. She stabbed the muscle fibers as though her fingers were a spear head. Then she dropped her other hand, chopping Yang’s biceps with the edge of her knife-hand. Yang withdrew her arm while retaliating with the other. Blake rotated like a revolving door, the fist hitting only wall. An elbow strike landed on the bicep at the same time as a rising knee to the underarm.

Again and again, the boxer tried to land a blow on the slippery ninja. Each punch was dodged and punished with a precise strike to the muscles in her arms. Blake was not aiming for Yang’s exposed midsection or head, only her limbs. Gradually, the fists lost speed and the power behind the punches waned. Yang’s face purpled as Blake continued to methodically dismantle her partner’s offense.

Finally, a scream of pain tore itself out of Yang’s throat. Both of her arms hung limply at her sides, dragged down by the weight of her gauntlets. They shook like tree branches in a windstorm. She sucked in gulps of air like a dying flame. Drops of sweat rolled down her forearms and into the workings of Ember Celica. The shotgun-gauntlets would have to be scrubbed clean of salt when this was over.

Refusing to be hindered, Yang raised a boot and launched a straight kick at Blake. But the foot only passed through a decoy. A shadow passed overhead. Blake flipped through the air above blonde hair and landed silently behind Yang. She dropped low, her hair brushing the floor, and swept Yang’s standing leg out from beneath her. The blonde landed on her side with a grunt. Blake stepped over Yang’s body and grabbed her wrist. She stretched the arm and pinched it between her knees. Then she fell on her back and crossed her ankles over Yang’s chest. The faunus ground her hips into the trapped arm, threatening to hyperextend Yang’s elbow.

“Tap out Yang, right now!” Blake exclaimed.

A long pained groan elicited of the blonde’s cracked lips. She lifted her free hand and slapped the floor as hard as she could. At the sound of the clap, Blake relinquished the armbar and rolled to her feet. A tremendous roar rose from the bystanders as she stood up. She ignored the spectators and walked to Yang. The dragoness was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling with crimson eyes. The flames of her Semblance were gone. Blake reached down and held a hand out to her partner.

Amber eyes met scarlet.

Ember Celica climbed slowly and reached weakly at the awaiting hand. Blake grasped the gauntlet and pulled her partner to her feet. Yang winced as her arm stretched out. Finally, she stood on her feet again. The brunette put her hand on the blonde’s muscular back and led her to the stretcher. They both sat on the gurney and rode it up, their feet dangling off the bed. When the partners were out of the pit, Blake let Yang lean on her for support as they walked toward the rest and recuperation area of the gym.

The dragoness was panting. Her eyes remained crimson.

* * *

 

“Slow down.”

Blake spoke sternly as she watched Yang guzzle deeply from a brightly colored sports drink. As her arms were still weak from the fight, Blake was holding the bottle to Yang’s dry and cracked lips. The blonde had burned a lot of her body’s nutritional reserves during her “training” session, so she needed a beverage with high amounts of electrolytes and sodium. She was so dehydrated that her tongue had swelled in her dry mouth.

The two members of RWBY were sitting in a quiet room with soft lighting and softer furniture. The temperature in here was much cooler than the gym. It was sweet relief on Blake’s blistered skin. She felt cheated when steam failed to rise from her flesh. The scent of jasmine flowers wafted into her nose, calming her nerves. They shared an armless couch, with Blake kneeling toward her partner. Yang was slouching in the spongy cushions. A cold damp towel was draped around her broad shoulders and her arms wrapped in cold packs.

Ignoring the order, Yang continued to gulp down the liquid like the sole survivor of a desert voyage. She was already on her second bottle, having emptied the first in a matter of seconds. Blake watched Yang’s throat as it throbbed hastily. She frowned and pulled the drink away from parched lips. Crimson eyes fluttered open, and then fired a hot glare at the faunus.

“I said to slow down.” Blake repeated, “You’re going to hurl if you don’t take slower sips.”

Yang panted, “Fine! Just gimme the freaking drink!”

As soon as the bottle touched her arid lips, Yang latched on and continued to swig; but at a more controlled pace. Finally, the second sports drink was empty and the dragoness was looking far better than before.

She licked her lips and sat in quiet for a moment. Blake was just about to try and start the conversation when Yang spoke up first. She crossed her arms and readjusted the positions of the coolant packs along her sore muscles.

“You fight dirty, you know that?” her words were tinged with accusation.

“Of course I fight dirty.” Blake said plainly. “Where I come from, if you don’t win, you might very well not survive. You wouldn’t fight clean if your life was on the line.”

No response.

The third bottle sat between them on the couch. Crimson eyes flitted between the drink and amber orbs. When Blake failed to provide, Yang lifted one hand and slowly reached for the refreshment. Her arms trembled as her fingers gradually closed the distance to the bottle of flavored liquid. Blake intercepted the groping hand and moved it out of her reach. The dragoness fumed while the feline spoke.

“We need to talk about what’s making you act this way.”

Yang demanded, “Act what way?”

“What, have you already forgotten the scene you made this morning? You scared us, Yang!”

The blonde bruiser was as silent as a stone statue.

“You’ve been behaving strangely ever since the Breach. I didn’t say anything at first because I wanted to see if you would ask for help.”

Blake’s expression darkened, “But that hasn’t been the case and you’ve been getting worse by the day. I’m done waiting for this to solve itself. I’m just going to ask you directly: what is going on?”

The dragoness averted her eyes, “It’s… it’s… this is none of your concern.”

“We’re partners, Yang.” She held a hand over her heart, “Anything that’s your concern is mine as well.”

Yang faced Blake and snarled, “I’m telling you to stay out of this. It’s not a big deal.” A heated glare burned into amber orbs.

With pursed lips, “I just had to drag you out of a pit because you were delirious with dehydration. Don’t try and tell me that’s not a big deal. Yang, you are the strongest girl I have ever met. But in your anger, you have been using your strength against yourself and I want to know why!”

“I’m not angry!” Yang exploded. The temperature in the room began to rise.

“Then look at me with purple eyes.”

The blonde turned her head away. Waves of heat continued to fill the room.

Shaking her crown, Blake tried to appeal to her partner, “When I was in a dark place,  _you_  were the one to help me out of it. Now, I know something is making you burn up inside and I want to return the favor.”

“Don’t act like you know what’s happening inside me!” Fiery crimson eyes found Blake. Faint embers traced golden strands. The room felt like a sauna as her temper grew.

Unperturbed by the Yang’s rising wrath, “On the contrary, I know  _exactly_  what is happening inside you.”

Blake stood up and walked in front of her partner. She put her hands on Yang’s knees and tilted forward until their faces were nearly touching. Yang tried to back away, but Blake merely leaned in further. When she spoke, her voice was weighed with acidic experience.

“I happen to be  _very familiar_  with hatred. I’ve seen it before, what happens when someone lets anger consume their soul. I know exactly what it looks like when someone becomes so filled with rage that all they can see is  _red…”_

Amber bore into crimson.

“…And their vision tunnels until they lose sight of everything around them…”

Blake laced her fingers together. She flipped her hands at the wrists, thumbs down, and caged them over Yang’s eyes, like a domino mask. The dragoness could scarcely see anything through the spaces between the fingers.

“…Until they can’t see the world except through narrow slits.”

There was bitterness saturated in every word.

“I have seen it happen before,” her voice cracked, “and I will be  _damned_  before I watch another friend become consumed by hate.”

The mask was lifted and Yang could see Blake’s expression. Amber eyes were rheumy. She was biting her lower lip. She looked so miserable that the dragoness almost forgot about her own misery. The climate in the room became cold again. Feline eyes were searching draconian orbs. Blake could see the war rampaging through her partner’s windows.

Crimson battled with amethyst. Her eyes changed colors, back and forth, as she struggled to come to a decision.

Blake pleaded, “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

Blonde eyebrows knitted together. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth.

“I—I… found… my mo—…” Her breath caught in her throat and she ceased speaking. Her shoulders trembled and she could feel herself on the verge of breaking down. What would be so wrong about letting Blake help?

_I cost my best friend her life._

Her heart became stone.

Eyes opened again.

Red as blood.

“I can’t do that, Blake. I’m sorry, but this is something I need to solve on my own.”

Blake’s face fell. Lean shoulders drooped. Brunette eyebrows curled up. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“You’ve already helped me, Blake. You beat some sense into me.” Yang stood up and shook her arms free from the cold packs. They fell to the floor with a wet  _plop_. “But now I need to figure this out by myself.”

While her eyes were still crimson, the wildfire had been tempered. The dragoness walked away from Blake and picked up the third sports drink. She twisted the cap off and raised it to her lips. Her sips were short and controlled.

The feline watched as her partner emptied the last bottle. “What do you need right now, Yang?”

The blonde turned her back on Blake. A short silence settled as Yang pondered the question. Suddenly, a grin spread across her face. She answered with triumph, “I need answers. And I think I know someone who can help me find them.”

Yang strode out the door, leaving her partner behind.


	18. The Dragon's Oasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang meditates on Yang.

The shower head was pouring a torrent of ice-cold water upon sun kissed strands. Yang sucked in a sharp breath and held it as the freezing stream cascaded down her bare body. Goosebumps rose along her skin as her internal temperature began to drop. Sudsy water flowed down the drain. She grasped the faucet handle. With a twist, the arctic rain came to an end. She grasped the shower curtain and yanked it open. The curtain rings  _rasped_  as they slid aside.

Lavender-scented steam billowed forth as Yang stepped out of the bath. She was in Team RWBY's dorm room, making use of the private bathtub. The gymnasium's shower room far too overcrowded for Yang's comfort. So instead she made the trek back to her own room and prayed that she didn't run into her teammates. Thankfully, it appears that there is a benevolent god after all because the dorm was empty upon arrival.

The blonde grabbed a fluffy towel and swathed it around herself. Her beloved hair was wrapped up inside a second towel. She stood in front of the bathroom sink and wiped a palm across the misted mirror. Crimson met with crimson. She clenched her teeth in frustration. Not even a refreshing cold shower had calmed her back to violet hues. Salt and sweat were washed away by the water, but the fire in her heart was untouched. It wouldn't cool, no matter how much she tried to douse it. It was an uncomfortable sensation. It felt like an open furnace in her chest, burning her lungs and making every breath taste like bitter charcoal. Smoke rose to her brain and smothered out rational thought.

It was an eternal source of embarrassment for Yang, to have her inner turmoil laid bare by her eyes. Other people could hide their feelings and pretend like everything was alright. But the blonde was unfortunate enough to have her emotional state broadcasted against her will. Everyone who looked at her would know how angry she was. She could always put on a cheerful expression and make empty laughs, but the ruse would be ruined the moment she popped open her peepers.

Leaning forward and placing her hands flat on the porcelain sink, Yang stared at her reflection with rising aggravation.

" _Alright, it's time to dig deep and use what Dad taught me."_

With difficulty, Yang forced her body to relax and began to breathe deeply. She sucked in air slowly while counting to four. Then she held her breathe and counted to seven. Then she let it out even slower, to a count of eight. It was a breathing exercise she learned from Taiyang. The supreme sun dragon's words echoed in her mind as she inhaled and exhaled.

" _Remember this Yang, anger is just energy. It can be contained, it can be directed, but it cannot be destroyed. If you want to be rid of anger, it must be used up. There are many ways to spend anger, and not all of them are violent. Finding a healthy outlet for your anger is the most important part of managing it."_

Unfortunately, there was no healthy outlet available for Yang at this very moment. So right now, she began to focus on bottling it up, with the intention of uncapping it at the first opportunity.

Inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale.

As she practiced her breathing, the dragoness started searching deep within herself. Crimson globes closed. The world fell away from her feet. She heard and felt nothing but her own lungs expanding and contracting. With each mouthful of air, she sank lower and lower. She heard her father's words as though he were standing behind her.

" _Focus on finding your center. My old man used to describe it as the oasis in the soul. It is the place where "you" exist. Find the place where "Yang" exists. Remind yourself of who "Yang" is."_

Taiyang had taught his daughter how to manage her anger problems. It involved a lot of meditation and mental image training. She visualized what she was doing to help herself focus.

There was no porcelain beneath her palms; no bathroom tiles underfoot; no mirror beyond closed lids; and no passage of time besides the space between breaths. In her mind's eye, she could see her center. It was a serene pool of crystal-clear water, surrounded by mountainous dunes of scorching tawny sand. The desert was burning before her eyes, the very air twisting and warping beneath the heat of the sun.

The water was cool as she waded into the middle of the oasis. The surface came to her hips. She looked down. Her reflection gazed up. Crimson met amethyst. She stared at her; the young blonde with dragon's blood. Bending at her waist, Yang leaned over until the two faces were nearly touching. She inspected her mirror image.

Yang questioned Yang.

"Who  _are_  you?"

Yang answered, "I'm the hottest, baddest bitch this side of Remnant!  
I'm a daughter, a sister, a partner, and a Huntress-in-training.  
I've got power in my fists,  
love in my heart,  
strength in my soul,  
and a fire in my eyes.  
I'm a source of stability for the ones I love; a rock for them to seek and find refuge. They confided in me. They looked to me for help. They put their lives in my hands. And that's exactly why  _you_ need to fix this mess. How could they possibly entrust me with their dreams in your current state? I can't help them, not in this weakened state. In order for me to become like a rock again, you are going to have to repair the damage."

Yang questioned Yang.

"How do I fix this?"

Yang answered, "You're too hot. You need to put a cap on your anger, otherwise you might end up burning yourself and everyone around you. Remember what happened last time you tried to find your mother with a hot head?"

Yang remembered that night with perfect clarity. The Grimm that nearly killed her sister. The talk with Qrow. The sheer shame she felt when she realized that she had betrayed Ruby's trust.

Yang questioned Yang.

"What if I'm not strong enough?"

Yang answered, "You  _have to be_ strong enough. Nobody can help you besides yourself. This anger that burns inside you is  _not_  going to conquer us. You are the master of yourself! You can fix yourself, with your own power. Remember, Yang Xiao Long is a dragon! Fire cannot kill a dragon!"

The dragoness rose from the oasis and reached up. She wrapped her claws around the sun overhead. It felt like a heartbeat pounding out of control, threatening to burst out of her chest. She carried the inferno into the waters of her oasis and submerged it.

Night fell. The sky bruised. Stars spun like a top above her crown, reflecting like crystals off the surface of her center.

Paying the heat no heed, she pushed the sun down and down and  _down._  She shoved her anger into a bottle and began to twist the cap. Then she saw the second reflection. Yang turned her head up and gasped.

Raven stood in her oasis and whispered  _forget about me._

Yang roared at the top of her lungs. Her eyes snapped open and all she saw was  _crimson_. She pulled back her hand, curled her fingers into a tight ball, and drove it between her mother's eyes. An ear-splitting  _crash_  filled the bathroom as the mirror shattered into innumerable pieces. The falling shards added high-pitched notes to the concert of reckless wrath.

For a moment, all she could do was stare at her knuckles. A thin trail of blood trickled down her fingers. Then her gaze fell into the basin, where dozens of mirror fragments reflected dozens of fiery red orbs. The porcelain sink suffered a finger-length fracture where her other hand had been resting. Her hands fell limply to her sides. She glanced around her feet, where countless crimson eyes glared through polished silver daggers.

She exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. It shook as it passed through her lips. It tasted like smoke. Her stomach churned painfully, like a nest of restless snakes. She had been too angry for too long and now her body was paying the price.

Reaching behind her head, Yang removed the towel around her blonde hair and let it fall on the floor. Lengthy ropes tumbled down her back. She stepped a bare foot onto the towel and used it to push the sharp broken splinters away. The pieces  _clinked_  as they jostled against each other. But she couldn't hear it. She was listening to the roaring in her ears. It filled her head completely; loud enough to bring tears to her eyes.

" _I'm so angry I can't control it! How am I supposed to live like this?"_

Despair poured into her heart, like lamp oil atop the flames. She fell against the sink and glared at her likeness. Teardrops fell from crimson pools. She hated being helpless. She hated  _losing control_. She felt like the same pigtailed girl who tried to fight with anyone in arms reach and screamed her throat raw.

" _Haven't I matured since then? Haven't I become stronger than I was before?"_

It was like nothing has changed for Yang. Compared to everyone else on her team, Yang has not made any developments. Weiss was learning how to judge less and show empathy. Blake was opening up and letting people into her life. And Ruby was growing up  _so fast_. She was turning into a fine Huntress and a responsible leader, even though she still left cookie crumbs in her bed sheets. But Yang was only falling backwards, watching her friends and family step toward their futures while the dragoness was held firmly by her past. She didn't want to be left behind.

She didn't want to be abandoned.

" _Blake said I was the strongest girl she knew. She believes in me, so I can't give up. Let's try this again!"_

Through gritted teeth, Yang sucked in a slow breath while counting to four. Then she held it until seven. It was gradually released for a count of eight.

Inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale.

Again, the dragoness found her center and waded in the oasis. She seized the sun and plunged it into the water. It struggled in her grip as she held it beneath the surface. She hurriedly tried to bottle it up even as it fought to escape her.

_Forget about me._

Golden flames ignited along her hair, flowing down her back.

Her anger was hot to cast a light,  
bright enough to cast back the night.

" _How could Raven just leave me? How could she just… pour this vat of molten lava in my stomach and run away?"_

She squeezed her eyes shut and ground her teeth hard enough to taste blood. Again, her anger was rising out of control. It grew hotter and hotter and  _hotter_ , like a supernova between her palms. Her grasp was weakening as the flames of her wrath swelled in size and heat. She couldn't hold on and it promised to blaze like wildfire.

" _I can't… contain it!"_

The surface of the wellspring began to boil. Steam swirled around her like a tempest. Her oasis churned with a fury.

" _I need… I need…"_

_just a_  
_teensy_  
_weensy_  
_bit of_  
_help?_

Something whispered down the length of her golden mane. The waters of her center spumed like sea foam. But it was not froth that floated over the troubled waters. Delicate white petals glided across Yang's field of vision. A long forgotten scent filled the air; its origin a flower she could no longer name. She felt familiar fingers combing through her beautiful locks. Their touch was as gentle as kisses from a rose.

A strange sense of tranquility trickled into Yang's heart. The howling flames were dampened beneath soft summer rain. Strength flowed into her. With a single herculean roar, Yang took control of her anger and forced it into a container. She locked it up and buried it deep in her oasis.

Yang's eyes opened up. The bathroom was boiling hot. Slowly, she rose to her feet and stared into the cracked basin.

A treasure trove of amethysts glistened through the fractured mirror shards.

Grinning in triumph, Yang punched the air and hollered, "I did it! Take  _that_  unresolved mommy issues!"

A delicious laugh bounced off the walls. Finally, she felt like Yang again.

The anger wasn't gone, not by a long shot. It would remain until she spent it. But it was further and fainter, less like a conflagration that scorched her heart and more like the distant sun warming her skin. She felt like she was carrying a primed grenade in her hand, or a soda can that had been shaken really hard. In either case, cutting loose was going to have messy results. Yang would have to be careful when and where she used it.

Her breathing steadied as the dragoness basked in her success. God  _damn_  it felt good to win!

The victory was not without casualties, however. The blonde glanced around and grimaced at the damage she had inflicted upon Team RWBY's dorm bathroom. This was going to be hard to explain. So she wouldn't. Not yet anyways. Yang made a quick decision to procrastinate the inevitable reckoning in favor of pursuing leads.

Her mission was to get answers, and that took precedence over everything else.

She tossed aside the towel around her body and sauntered naked into the dorm room. Freshly cleaned clothes were draped across Blake's lower bunk bed.  
In her haste to depart the partially destroyed bathroom, she overlooked a handful of white petals drifting to the floor.


	19. Nightmare Crusade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang shakes down Junior for all the information he has on the Grimm Reaper.

Hei "Junior" Xiong was having a pleasant day.

This made him nervous. Days that started pleasant usually did not end so. He was expecting trouble. His whole body was tense, like waiting for a shoe to drop on his head. The tall, bearded bartender grabbed his scarlet tie with both burly hands and tightened the knot, as though battering down the hatches.

The establishment he owned was called,  _The Cub's Club_. It was an outwardly respectable business where young folk could get drunk and dance their worries away to the beat of deafening music. In the days since the Breach, there were a lot of worried people looking to get drunk.

Of course, the Club was also a front for Junior's criminal activities. He was an information broker with a spy network cast over the whole city like a fishing net. He had eyes and ears virtually everywhere, feeding him secrets that he sold to the highest bidder. If a paying client wanted to know where Witness Protection squirreled away a person and their family, Junior could point them in the right direction. If someone else wanted to know locations of a rival gang's outposts, then all they need to do was pay the price. Of course, Junior was also paid to keep such secrets. The bear stood in the middle of every gang war, selling secrets to both sides.

Information won wars, not guns-swords and Dust bullets.

Dark brown eyes passed over the crowds of party-goers. Beams of neon-colored light flashed at a seizure inducing tempo while electronic music blared through ceiling-high speakers. Dancers writhed and contorted; their movements appearing abrupt and broken, only briefly glimpsed between bursts of light. Hundreds of feet stomped the reinforced glass floors; hundreds of hands clapped to the beat; and hundreds of bodies collided against one another. Lips opened and closed, pressed against more lips, or wrapped around the lips of glass cups. Everyone was hungrily seeking fleeting distractions. Nobody wanted to remember the dread of the Grimm invasion. They would pay any price for escapism.

Junior was only happy to oblige them.

A pair of young women flanked the bar. The Malachite twins were two surprise packages. From their outward appearances, one would assume they were merely hostesses. They both had straight, black hair and pale green eyes. Both wore identical short, strapless dresses, thigh-high laced boots, and feathered scarves around their necks. But their color schemes were completely different. Miltiades chose to wear red and black whereas Melanie was decked out with white and silver. From their girlish accessories and elegant appearances, nobody would ever be able to guess that they were the Club's bouncers. The weapons they wielded were concealed in plain sight. Miltia wore wrist bracers with collapsible, parallel blades. Melanie's boots were weaponized as well, hiding blades in her stilettos. In combat they fought as a single unit, synchronizing attacks from flanking positions with uncanny accuracy.

The twins had been in Junior's employ for quite a long time now, but they still were a complete mystery. They had a habit of speaking in union with one voice that never failed to make the bear's skin crawl. On more than one occasion, Junior has seen one sister staring at the other and reacting as though unheard words were being traded. Women in general were difficult to understand, but those two were a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma.

Shaking his head, Junior turned his attention away from the Malachite twins, who were flirting with inebriated men and enticing them to buy more drinks. He checked his scarlet tie again, finding it to be as tight as it would ever be. He could only hope that it was secure enough to survive  _whatever_  was going to happen. The tension had been building behind his eyes, threatening to explode into a fully fledged migraine.

His eyes turned skyward. He thought angrily,  _"Come on then! I know something's going to happen. I'm ready for it. Give me your best shot!"_

One of the many thugs in Junior's employ came crashing through the crowd and threw himself bodily against the bar. His red-tinted sunglasses were askew, his tie was hanging out of his suit, and his bowler hat was missing. He shouted in pure, unadulterated fear at the top of his lungs.

"The scary blonde chick was just spotted parking her bike in the lot!"

Junior returned his gaze to the ceiling and sighed deeply, "Well played."

Waving his hand, he motioned the Malachite twins to follow. They immediately left the drunks and tagged along behind Junior as he strode through  _The Cub's Club._  When the trio arrived at the front entrance, there was a group of his mooks gathered before the double doors. The dark suits were herding the crowd away from the point of entry, apologizing as they ushered people to a safe distance. It was the first stage of preparing for  _her._

Pacing back and forth, the bear barked orders over the music in the background.

"Hurry up men! We have been preparing for this day! We don't have much time before she arrives at the gates!"

Once the party goers were out of harm's way, Junior's goons fell in parallel formation on either side of the doors. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they formed a wide and clear path from the door. They turned their heads up and crossed their arms behind their backs. Those closest to the door were new and thus expendable recruits.

"Remember soldiers! Do not breach proximity of her! Do not speak to her! Do not make eye contact with her! If she doesn't feel threatened, we may just survive this night!  _And where is the red carpet?"_

As if on cue, a thug came running toward the door. In his arms was a roll of bright scarlet carpet made from polyester felt. He quickly dropped the roll and gave it a kick. The carpet unfurled until it was completely laid out, forming a runway from the doors to Junior's feet. The men standing alongside the door stepped on the carpet and hurriedly straightened it out.

Suddenly, all of the color drained out of Junior's face. He bellowed behind him, "I need a strawberry sunrise cocktail, pronto!"

A thug cried out, "She's just outside the door!"

"Open the doors before she breaks them down!"

The two recruits standing beside the entrance reached toward the door handles. They pulled apart the double doors while stepping aside. Just beyond the entry was a womanly figure Junior had hoped to never see again.

Yang Xiao Long stood in the doorway, Ember Celica was drawn back to her ear. She had been preparing to breach the doors when they had opened. Amethyst eyes blinked once, then she lowered her fist to rest on her hip. The gauntlet-shotguns retracted from her hands and folded up into deceptively small wrist bracelets. A coy smile spread across her face as she witnessed the welcoming committee laid out for her. Her hips sashaying with every step, the blonde dragoness strutted into  _The Cub's Club_. The suits raised their chins and stared at the ceiling, not risking eye contact with the beautiful bruiser. Long legs carried her down the middle of the red carpet as she swaggered up to Junior. She stood close enough that he could smell lavender.

Junior spoke more calmly than he felt. "Welcome to  _The Cub's Club_ , Miss Xiao Long. Is there anything I can do for you?"

A feminine finger brushed the bear's bearded chin. Yang began to absentmindedly play with the coarse hairs as she spoke. "I have to say, Junior, you certainly know how to make a lady feel at home. This is only my third visit and already I get the VIP treatment."

"Actually," the bar owner corrected, "you're considered a VDP."

Yang's eyebrow quirked up questioningly.

"A very dangerous person."

Laughter exploded from the blonde beauty. She released Junior's beard and stroked her finger up and down his scarlet tie. It was quickly loosened by her ministrations. "If I'm so dangerous, then why haven't I been given my drink yet?"

At that moment, a waiter approached with a tray carrying a glass of strawberry sunrise. He averted his eyes from the dragoness as he presented her with the yellow and red cocktail. Yang put her hands on her hips and stared at the drink with disapproval. Junior grunted meaningfully. The waiter quickly reached into his apron and produced a tiny cocktail parasol. As soon as the glass was rightfully decorated, Yang removed the parasol and deposited the entire glass into her mouth at once.

The empty glass landed on the tray and Yang twirled the itty-bitty parasol between her fingers. "Sweet and smooth, just the way I like it!" she proclaimed cheerfully. "This is just the thing I need to calm my nerves."

Junior visibly relaxed, his shoulders drooped down. He began to see hope that this night would end peacefully. He held his hands up, as if to show he wasn't hiding anything. "All your drinks are on the house, Miss Xiao Long."

Grinning brightly, Yang fished Junior's tie out of his vest. With a teasing voice, "In that case, I'll have another one. By the way, you can drop the Miss and call me Yang. Let's go to the bar and we can talk about what you can do for me tonight." She wrapped the tie around her hand and pulled it like a leash. The sunny Huntress strolled toward the bar, with Junior in tow. The Malachite twins followed behind their boss. The welcoming committee collectively exhaled a sigh of relief before they began to roll up the red carpet.

They sat down at the bar.

As soon as Yang let go of the leash, Junior slipped the tie back into his suit. After making sure the tie was secure again, he began to mix another identical cocktail for the bombshell. Yang began to tap the bar in rhythm with the music blaring in the background. She was sitting on a stool, her elbow on the table, as she watched the people on the dance floor. Melanie took a seat to the right of the blonde while Miltiades flanked her left.

Yang turned to Miltiades. "Have you ever heard the phrase about coral snakes? If red touches yellow, you're a dead fellow."

The red clad girl started to back away when Yang laughed out loud. The blonde reached over and rubbed the top of Miltiades' head, mussing up her ebony crown. "I'm only kidding, only kidding! You're okay right where you are. I just wanted to tease ya. I dunno why, but you remind me of my little sister."

Wearing an incredibly forced smile that stretched her cheeks, Miltiades returned to her seat. She produced a comb from seemingly nowhere and began to straighten her disheveled hair. Yang swiveled in her stool and faced Melanie. "Ruby is  _such_  a tomboy. She loves to fight as much as I do! Normally, my little sister is a cutie-patootie. But when she gets engrossed in the heat of combat, she can scare even  _me!"_

The Malachite twins shared an expression of growing horror as Yang continued to brag about Ruby. "You've probably seen her on TV during the award ceremony. She was the one  _first one awarded_ , how cool is that? She wields a humongous scythe that she built. She can run like the wind and swing that scythe so fast you can't hardly even see it! Ruby thinks that I'm a lot stronger than her, but I wonder about that. If she and I were to fight seriously, I don't know for certain if I could beat her. Ruby is most definitely a VDP as well."

In their minds, the twins remembered the little girl who had been on the television set. She was small and thin with a cherub face, but both sisters knew better than to underestimate little women. The televised broadcast of the awards ceremony had shown a small clip of Ruby's fighting prowess. The camera didn't capture much besides creatures of Grimm being cleaved apart by a crimson blur wielding a blurrier blade. If Yang said that Ruby was dangerous, then the bouncers didn't have any desire to meet her.

Yang propped her elbows on the bar as she waited for Junior. He returned shortly with the second drink. The moment it touched the counter, it was swept up to Yang's lips. She left the glass half emptied. Yang smacked her lips as the mixed drink burned down her throat. Her chin rested on the heel of her palm and with a curling finger, she bade Junior to come hither. The bear leaned in closer as the dragoness began to speak.

"I'm looking for a woman and I hope that you can help me find out information regarding her."

Junior grunted, "If it's the same woman you asked about the first time you were here, then I haven't found out anything new."

The first time Yang entered  _The Cub's Club_ , she had asked Junior if he had any knowledge about her mother. She had shown him a picture of Raven Branwen, but back then Yang hadn't known her mother's name. Now Yang was looking for Raven again, but this time from a different angle. She wasn't planning on asking for information about a missing mother, but a monster slayer.

Amethyst eyes blinked. Then the dragoness laughed and lied, "I ain't looking for the same lady this time. This is a totally different person. So, are you going to help me?"

Grumbling out loud, "You know that most people pay me for my services, right?"

"Hey now," Yang smirked, "I pay you plenty."

"How is that exactly?" A dark eyebrow rose.

Her smirk transformed into a full blown grin as she replied. "I pay you with  _lack of damages_."

The bear did not share her cheerfulness.

Yang explained with a peppy tone of voice, "If you agree to help me, then you will receive a heaping  _lack of damages!_  Just think of it as a protection racket."

Junior frowned, "You do realize that protection rackets are illegal, right?"

The blonde reached over the bar and playfully jabbed Junior in the ribs. She giggled girlishly. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

A great big defeated sigh exploded from the bear. "Alright Yang, what's her name?"

Shrugging her shoulders, "Dunno."

"Do you have a picture?"

"Nope." Yang popped the 'P'.

Junior stared at the blonde incredulously. "Do you have any information I can use to track her down?"

The rest of the strawberry sunrise poured into Yang's stomach and she placed the empty glass on the table. She smiled confidently and requested, "I need a piece of paper and two good pens, one red and one black."

Confusion was evident on the bar owner's face, but he retrieved a spiral notepad with pens and handed them to her. Immediately, Yang took the black pen and hunched over the notepad. She began to draw out curved lines, focusing entirely on what she was doing.

Junior was dumbfounded, "Are you actually going to try and draw the person you want me to find? You can't really expect me to find someone based off of a mere sketch."

Yang stuck her tongue out as she furiously scratched at the paper. "I'm a pretty damn good artist. Also, I'm not drawing the person, but something you can use to identify her." An oval outline appeared on the notepad.

Raising her head from the sketch, the blonde held up three fingers, signaling for yet another drink. Junior retrieved a third glass from behind the bar and filled it with ice cubes, strawberry schnapps, orange juice, and finally a shot of grenadine. Yang reached over the bar and stole the drink before Junior could hand it to her. She took a sip and swirled the sweet nectar around her mouth.

"I know I said that drinks were on the house," the bearded bear pointed out, "but maybe you should slow down before you become drunk."

Returning to the drawing, "My hands need to be steady for this to come out right. Don't worry about me, I have an iron liver same as my dad. You wouldn't believe the amount of alcohol he can put away before he even gets a little tipsy."

Then she laughed, but nervously this time. "Uh… don't let my dad learn that I've been drinking. Dad is normally really carefree. But when he gets angry, it's straight up dangerous! The last time I got caught with a beer, he about blew a hole in the roof. I'm speaking literally, by the way. Dad is the one who taught me how to fight, and he's so strong that I've never seen him fight seriously. I can barely get him to break a sweat!"

The Malachite twins simultaneously gulped hard. First Yang said she has a little sister who is as strong as she was. Now she's reveals that her father is much stronger. Their mental image of Yang's father was less of a man and more of a monster. He would be a gigantic behemoth with rippling muscles the size of a person's skull. Long, blond hair draped over his broad shoulders. He may have gauntlets of his own, but each would carry enough firepower to rival an Atlesian Paladin. Across his enormous pectorals would be bandoliers lined with anti-tank rounds. A big fat cigar chomped between sharp fangs completed the picture inside the twin's minds.

They were going to have to invent a new list for very, very dangerous people.

Junior shuddered. "You have my word that I won't let Mr. Xiao Long find out you've been drinking."

"Goodie! Don't want anything to happen to ya!" Yang chirped as she continued to scribble on the paper.

Curiosity overpowering self-preservation instincts, Miltiades stepped behind the blonde and peered over her shoulder. Yang immediately put her hand over the drawing and shot the red-clad girl an annoyed glare. "Don't look, it's not done yet!"

As she carried on drawing, Yang filled the time by chatting. "I've got an Uncle Qrow who is on the same team as my dad. Uncle Qrow taught my sister how to wield a scythe. That's probably why she's such a force to be reckoned with. He's a real mellow fellow. But you know what they say, beware the quiet ones. Dad says that Uncle Qrow is one of the very few people who he considers too dangerous to fight." She laughed.

Junior and the twins shared a nervous titter. Melanie and Miltiades were imagining a creature straight from a horror story. A monster cloaked in death and shadows, carrying a scythe stained red with the blood of innocents. Ruby and Yang were at the bottom of a pyramid, with their father standing on a tier above them and their Uncle one step even higher.

"Is there anyone you're related to," Junior slowly inquired, "that isn't a terrifying being?"

Yang chewed on the red pen thoughtfully. Then she answered, "Nope!" with a cheerful grin.

"What about your mother?"

She laughed, "I don't know much about my mom. She left right after I was born and my dad doesn't like to talk about her. But from what little I do know, she was probably the most dangerous of us all."

The twins' eyes were wide and unblinking. They couldn't even comprehend what kind of eldritch nightmare that Mrs. Xiao Long must be. What sort of unholy demon could stand at the pinnacle of the pyramid?

Junior was beginning to wonder if he shouldn't just move back to Vacuo.

Eventually, after Yang had knocked back her fourth strawberry sunrise, the drawing was announced to be complete. The blonde was holding the piece of paper face down on the counter.

"Okay," she admitted, "it took a lot longer to draw than I expected. But it looks pretty good if I do say so myself. Are you ready to see it?"

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Junior nodded his head. Yang's demeanor changed as she lifted the paper off the counter. There was no grinning or smirking. Her lips were set firmly in a straight line. Cold amethysts locked onto Junior's expression, studying his face intensely. In one swift motion, the dragoness flipped the paper over and revealed the picture.

The sketch was of a white full-faced mask with four eyeholes. It was in the shape of an Ancient Nevermore skull, with crimson decals tracing the sharp angles like trails of blood.

Yang watched his reaction. The hitch in his inhalation. The dilation of his eyes. The tightening of his jaw.  
A broad smile spread across the blonde beauty's lips. One thought echoed through her head, loud and clear as cannon fire.

" _Jackpot."_

To his credit, Junior's tells were remarkably tame. They manifested for scarcely half a second, and then he suppressed them. Had she not caught him by surprise, had she not been looking for those exact signs, they might have escaped her notice.

The bear casually plucked the paper from Yang's fingers. He gazed at the image while stroking his beard; the perfect picture of methodical contemplation. He spent enough time looking at the drawing to convince anyone that he was carefully inspecting the sketch. Junior was acting as if he didn't already know  _exactly who_  Yang was looking for. When he finally spoke, his voice was apologetic.

"I'm sorry Yang, but I don't know who this is." Junior set the paper on the counter, "This looks like a Grimm mask, one that a member of the White Fang would wear. It's very ornate, so whoever wears this must be high up in the White Fang's hierarchy. Unfortunately, I don't have information on the White Fang's chain of command. I wish I could help, but that's beyond the scope of my information network."

A girlish giggle elicited from womanly lips. Yang was smiling as she shook her golden grown. "I have to admit, you've got a pretty good poker face. But I've seen through better poker faces. You should play cards with my family. My Uncle has the single most infuriatingly blank expression you have ever witnessed. That's why I've had to learn how to read the smallest tells in someone's face, otherwise I'd never be able to win against my Uncle."

Junior's expression hardened. "I'm not lying, I really don't know who this woman is."

Yang stood up from her stool and reached for Junior's scarlet tie. She wrapped her fingers around the silk blade and yanked it out of his shirt. It tightened like a noose, threatening to sever his air supply. The bear was pulled down to eye level with the dragoness. She spoke with a low voice, "You know you're lying. I know your lying. You aren't fooling anyone here. But if you keep playing stupid, then I'm going to stop playing around."

The temperature around Yang began to rise. Hot needles pricked at Junior's brow, causing beads of sweat to build.

"See, I've had a  _really_  sucky day. Easily one of the top five worst days of my life. So I've got a  _little bit_  of anger pent up inside of me and I'm just looking for a chance to cut loose."

Amethyst eyes closed.

"The choice is yours, Junior."

Crimson eyes opened.

"Are you going to purchase my protection?"

Perspiration fell into Junior's left eye, causing it to burn painfully. He squeezed his left eye closed and glanced around the bar. The Malachite twins had left their seats and were stepping away from the growing inferno. The thugs he paid money to for protection were slowly circling around while drawing weapons. But it was clear that none of them wanted to be the first to meet Yang's fury. If she ignited, then the opening casualty would be Junior himself.

" _Lousy traitors. Can't buy loyalty, huh?"_

Finally, he threw his hands up and shouted, "Alright! I know who you're looking for! Will you please cool down?"

The heat relented and breezy air swept across Junior's red face. Yang released the tie and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Junior irritably shoved the neck decoration back into his vest. With a defeated sigh, he stated, "This isn't a conversation to we can have out here. Follow me to my office."

He fired a disappointed glare at the group of unhelpful muscle, who all shuffled their feet and rubbed their necks sheepishly.

Junior ordered Miltiades to tend to the bar in his absence. Melanie fell behind Yang as she followed the bear toward a back door. Yang was scarcely able to contain her anticipation as she stepped into the employees-only section. The music died away as they made their way deeper into the club.

The door to Junior's office was remarkably dull. Its only decorations were a simple plaque with "Hei Xiong" printed across and a series of locks.

Yang spoke up. "Why use old fashioned locks instead of a digital keypad?"

"Electronic locks can be hacked, or deactivated if the power gets knocked out. Call me old fashioned if you like, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Each lock required a different key. To Yang's surprise, the second-to-last lock didn't receive any key and was completely ignored. Junior chuckled, "That lock is a trap. Anyone who tries to insert a key or a bobby pin will get nailed with five hundred thousand volts. Same thing will happen if they try to break the door down."

"Nasty!" Yang squirmed.

"Probably not enough to kill. I would rather interrogate intruders and learn who my enemies are."

"You are  _really_  paranoid."

"In my line of business, paranoia keeps me alive."

Junior held the door open for the VDP as she sauntered into his office. Melanie stood sentry outside the doorway. The office wasn't small, but it felt claustrophobic because of all the equipment crammed along the walls. Everything was very neat and tidy, which was to be expected from an information broker. To the left were filing cabinets that reached to the ceiling, each with a lock. To the right were banks with computer servers, no doubt storage for digital information. A constant  _whirr_  of spinning hard drives rose from the servers. In the back was large mahogany desk with a bright blue hard-light monitor screen hovering above the lacquered surface. The wall behind the desk was nearly covered by a larger 52" screen.

Yang spoke up, "You must bring all the ladies back here."

"Just the ones that try to talk about dangerous subjects."

"What makes this woman so dangerous?" Yang shook the paper drawing of Raven's mask.

Junior reached behind his desk and opened a drawer. He reached inside and produced an Ancient Nevermore mask, perfectly identical to the one that adorned her mother's face. For a second, Yang almost thought it really was Raven's mask. Then she realized it was a plaster replica. The bear held the copy prop as he snarked. "Try absolutely everything about her. You said your mother is dangerous? Well, there is no way she's even halfway as hazardous as…"

His voice became low and dramatic. He put the mask over his face. Dark brown eyes glowered through the menacing facade.

"…the Grimm Reaper."

It took every iota of Yang's resolve to keep a straight face. She failed anyways. Grinning like a madwoman, "What're you, her number one fanboy?"

Junior removed the imitation piece and returned it to the desk drawer. "No! I just happen to like an unsolved mystery. That's all."

Deciding to spare the poor old nerd, she inquired innocently, "She's called the Grimm Reaper, huh? What's her story?" After a second of consideration, "Do you know her name?"

Shaking his head, "No name and no prior history; the Grimm Reaper's identity is a secret. What I don't know about her could fill a library. What I  _do_  know is that this woman has been carving a bloody path through history for well over a decade. I'm not entirely certain when she first appeared. It could be anywhere from fifteen to twenty years ago."

" _Try seventeen years."_  Yang thought to herself.  _"Well, almost eighteen years by now."_

Junior sat behind the computer desk and began to bring up information. The large screen behind him filled with files and links. Yang stepped up to the screen, amethyst eyes absorbing the data flowing in. The screen was bisected along the middle by a line, with a number of dates ranging from the year 60 A.G.W to the current year, 80 A.G.W. Dots appeared along the timeline, links to files. She raised a hand and tapped a random dot. The year on the file was 63 A.G.W, close to the beginning of the timeline. The file expanded and loaded the screen with pictures and word documents. What she saw chilled her to the bone.

The pictures depicted the body of a man, hewn into two bloody pieces. The image was low quality and grainy, so that was a blessing. But the word documents made up for the lack of details, clinically describing the force and the angle of the blow that rent him apart. The report declared that it was a singular slash, a clean cut from a  _very_  sharp weapon. The blade had caught him underneath the ribcage and then continued horizontally until it severed his spine and exited from the opposite flank. The force behind the swing was great enough to cause the upper torso to fly several feet away from the lower torso. There was also a note stating that trace amounts of Dust was found in the wound.

"Whoa," Yang breathed, "what happened to this dude?"

"The Grimm Reaper happened." Junior said ominously.

Raven's words echoed;  _I have spread my curse to demons, bringing ruin down upon them._

"So, who was this guy?" Yang asked. "What did he put on his online dating profile?"

The bear chuckled darkly, "That was Danube Corrsin, otherwise known as the Butcher of Achnasheen. If he had a dating profile, it would be filled with some very sick content. He was a real monster, a psychopath with…" Junior made a face, "…disturbing tendencies."

"Regular client of yours?" The dragoness quipped.

"Absolutely not!" Junior suddenly snapped, causing Yang to flinch. "I do  _not_  do business with degenerates like him. I have standards, unlike many of my competition. My clients are criminals, not the criminally insane."

Yang held her hands up, palms out, "Didn't mean to offend you there, baby bear."

Harrumphing, "The only interaction I have with psychopaths is surveillance. My clients will pay good money to make sure their operations don't run afoul with wildcards like Danube. There's nothing worse than pulling off a perfect crime, just to have a freak wearing his mother's face jump in and carve up your men."

The mental image made Yang's face contort as though she had bitten into a lemon. One  _relatively_  good thing about the creatures of Grimm is that they don't leave a mess. No blood, no organs, no gross giblets. With a good punch, they simply break into solid pieces and dissolve. As ridiculous as it sounded, killing supernatural monsters was much preferable to human monsters. The dragoness didn't consider herself squeamish, but there were things in this world that would make even hardened veterans sick.

Junior continued, "The Grimm Reaper has been slaying fiends long before I got in the business. What little I have on her is from the information I've compiled together. Tracing her trail through history was very difficult, primarily because she never left survivors or witnesses. I don't know her true death count because it's most likely that there are bodies we've never found."

He turned to the screen and dragged his finger across the touch-sensitive surface. The timeline zoomed in until only the first seven years were visible. A heaping handful of incidents dotted the row from left to right. To the far left, the dots were scarce; but they grew in number and density the more the years passed. Junior waved his hand dismissively at the leftmost marks and shook his head.

"I'm not sure when she first appeared. There were a couple of possible occasions as far as twenty years ago, but not all the details add up. I'll just ignore those. In fact, I'm going to glaze over the majority of these cases because there's just too many of them. I'll only regale you with the most informative incidents. You may want to get comfortable." He pointed at a cushioned chair that was in the corner.

Yang pulled up the seat and plopped her ample ass down. She crossed her arms and swung one leg over the other. She nodded her golden crown. Junior returned to the timeline.

"When she first started, the Reaper apparently singled out the worst psychopaths to hunt. Nobody knew what was going on, just that the most horrible sickos started to drop off the face of Remnant. Month after month, informants began to report the disappearances of the monsters they were keeping tabs on. At first, it was assumed that they were simply falling off the grid and going into hiding so that they could pop out somewhere else, completely unexpected. But the more monsters began to vanish, the more that time passed, the less likely that theory became. Some brokers hypothesized that they were going into hiding together, creating a death cult. That idea was troubling enough to inspire action."

Yang asked, "What did they do?"

"They did the one thing you  _really_  aren't supposed to do with psycho-killers. They went looking for them. This is what they found."

Junior tapped a number of dots and filled the screen with a plethora of pictures. Each one depicted scenes from a horror movie.

"All of the killers had been killed."

Disemboweled bodies with organs spilling from rent bellies. Decapitated carcasses, necks ending in mutilated stumps. Cadavers cleaved to halves like Danube, a few in more portions. Others were executed with blood chilling precision. Thin cavities in their chests and skulls. Gaping holes between eyebrows, brains on display. Throats split open with a single clean cut, swelled tongues lolling out of unhinged mouths. There was not a single carcass that wasn't slathered in cruor.

 _I can kill in more ways than you could even dream._  Raven had said.

The temperature in the room felt like it had dropped.

_I have rid the world of malefactors, so that it might be a safer place for my daughter to grow up in._

Goosebumps rose along pale skin.

_Yang, I do it all for you._

Yang felt bile burning up the back of her throat.

_That is how I show my love for you._

She swallowed hard.

The blonde's unease went unnoticed by the bear. "It didn't take long for the brokers to decide that someone was killing off psychopaths. That wasn't good for business, you see. We get paid good money to keep an eye on wildcards. The new arrival was christened "the Reaper" and they started to lay plans to deal with him or her. The first thing they did was begin building a  _modus operandi_. Any repetitions in details were recorded. They were determined to uncover the killer's identity, and finding people with matching M.O.s would narrow the search."

 _Tap-tap-tap-tap._  Junior  _tapped_  the screen rapidly, bringing up a text document with a lengthy list of items.

"It was a very difficult job for the information brokers, primarily because of the aforementioned lack of witnesses. Figuring out which kills to attribute to the Reaper was a tremendous effort. The good thing is that there was a steady flow of data for them to collect. The Reaper was on a killing spree and only building up speed.  
The first thing they determined was that the Reaper is a highly skilled sword-wielder. The use of the sword was obvious from wound patterns. The accuracy of her killing blows suggests training, perhaps Hunters training. Many of her victims were well versed fighters, but she slew them with very rare signs of intense struggle. It was as though she would simply appear, snuff out her target, and then disappear just as quickly."

Yang thought back to the first time she laid eyes on Raven. The only thing she had witnessed was the grim slayer carving a hole out of thin air and vanishing through it. " _If that's Raven's Semblance, then she could very well be the world's most terrifying assassin."_  How would anyone even begin to defend against an attacker that can literally materialize anywhere at any given second?

Junior selected the year 66 A.G.W. and brought up a case document.

"The Reaper was able to continuously slay monsters for four years before she finally left a survivor. Her would-be victim was known as Lucky Streak, although that's not his real name. Apparently, the Reaper believed that she had killed him when she impaled him through the heart. But Lucky was born with  _dextrocardia_ , a condition where his heart is on the right side of his chest as opposed to the left. He managed to fake his death until she left."

Yang whistled, "Hot damn! Someone outta take him to the casinos in Vacuo!"

Smirking sarcastically, "That's where he was almost assassinated. He fled to the brokers and traded information for protection. He spoke about being attacked by 'a human Grimm', which is of course utter nonsense. They didn't believe his description, but gave him medical treatment and protection anyways. Their protection turned out to be worthless when the Reaper tracked him down again and made sure to finish the job." Junior then pressed a dot and brought up a video file. "Lucky's loss was the brokers' gain, however. When the Reaper showed up, she was finally caught on camera."

The video loaded and revealed a security camera view of a sterile white hospital room with an adjustable bed. A ghostly pale man was lying beneath the covers, his shaven head was decorated with indistinguishable tattoos across his crown. Lucky's upper torso was wrapped in bandages. He was hooked up to a breathing machine, an IV drip, and a heartbeat monitor. There was a digital clock at the bottom of the screen, stating it was in the middle of the day. Lime green curtain bisected the room, blocking out the sunlight.

There was no audio. There was no movement. It could have been a still image if not for the clock. Seconds passed. Yang leaned forward in her seat. Amethyst eyes scoured the screen, just waiting for something to change. Her throat felt dry.

Suddenly, a huge shadow was cast upon the curtains. They parted violently and revealed a churning ovular sphere of redness and blackness. It reached from the floor to the ceiling. Then a fearsome figure emerged from the writhing portal.

Raven's face was hidden behind her signature four-eyed mask. She was wearing dark clothes, but nothing like what she had worn the first time Yang laid eyes on her. Her black hair was short, brushing her shoulders. One hand gripped her scabbard, a multi-chambered rotary cylinder filled with of different colors of Dust. Yang noted that there appeared to be  **three canisters**  of each Dust type within the scabbard's chamber. In Raven's other hand was her sword; its sanguine blade was as long as her wingspan. She marched to the bed, her boots planted firmly with each step. The black-clad slayer stood beside Lucky's sleeping form and lifted her sword above her brunette crown. The man had his head turned away. Even if he woke up at this very second, he wouldn't see his killer. She flipped the blade so that pointed down. Then, without ceremony, Raven plunged the length of her sword into Lucky's ear canal.

Yang recoiled as she watched the curved blade disappear into the previously sleeping man's skull. The very tip must have struck the floor because the stab came to a sudden stop. Without waiting a second, Raven gripped her sword handle with both hands and gave it a sharp twist. The blade broke off of the hilt, just a finger length left behind. The grim Huntress thumbed the hilt; the remaining fragment detached and fell to the floor. Then Raven sheathed the sword's  _habaki_  into her scabbard and drew a wholly fresh blade. It was a different color, lightning yellow. With a flick of her new edge, the Reaper cleaved open a gateway and disappeared within.

Lips slightly parted, the blonde bruiser stared at the screen. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the image of the man with a blade piercing his skull. Nausea gripped Yang's stomach and twisted it cruelly. It wasn't the death that made her ill. It was the nonchalance behind it.

Raven had entered the hospital room, taken Lucky's life, and left via portal within twenty seconds. Not once did the Reaper even slow to ponder the morality of killing a person as they slept. She was like a machine. A killing machine.

With a start, Yang realized that Hei Xiong was examining at her expression. She quickly changed gears and made her mouth grin cheekily. "I guess you could say the Reaper ended his… Lucky Streak?"

Rolling his grizzly eyes, Junior sighed, "Like that joke hasn't been made a thousand times before."

Forced laughter exploded from the dragoness.

He closed the video and opened more documents. "This was a major breakthrough for the brokers. After spending four years parched of information, they were  _finally_  able to get a physical description of the Reaper. When they saw that she wore a Nevermore mask, they added the 'Grimm' to her codename. From this point forward, she has been known as the Grimm Reaper. Additionally, they were able to determine her gender, height, hair color, and hand dominance. On top of that, the Grimm Reaper demonstrates what appears to be a Semblance, further solidifying the theory that she's a rouge Huntress."

Yang frowned, "Why does she have to be a rouge Huntress? Aren't there mercenaries out there that also have unlocked their Semblances?"

"As you can probably imagine, these psychopaths have prices on their heads. But not a single person came forward to take credit for the kills. If the Reaper were a mercenary, then she would have taken their bodies to collect their bounties. No mercenary would pass up the opportunity to make big bucks."

Junior pushed the timeline aside and accessed a file labeled THE REAPER'S WEAPON.

"One of the most important developments was that the Reaper left behind a fragment of her weapon."

Onscreen, said fragment was on a stainless steel laboratory table. A room full of scientists surrounded the table, collecting data from the broken blade. They were scanning the shard with various scientific equipments, as well as taking samples with super-precise machinery. It was surreal to see so many lab technicians dedicated to the study of a single weapon.  _Just what kind of resources did these brokers have?_

Realizing that she could just ask, "Just what kind of resources did these brokers have? Why spend so much on examining a broken weapon?"

"The brokers were commissioned to find out as much as they could about the Grimm Reaper. The one who gave them their mission footed the bill." Junior explained, "As to why, it's because a custom-made weapon is like a fingerprint. What they found revealed much about the Grimm Reaper's capabilities."

The records of their findings appeared on the holographic surface. Text boxes formed a frame around the picture of the busted sword.

"First of all, the Reaper's weapon is not made from metal. The blade is composed of crystallized Dust, which is why it broke."

Amethysts filled with confusion. "Wait, Dust can be used as a solid weapon? What's the point if it breaks so easily?"

Hei Xiong shook his head, "You don't know about Dust weapons? What do they teach you in Beacon Academy?"

Ember Celica knocked together warningly,  _clang-clang_. "Don't get snooty with me, Junior. I'm still in my first year."

Junior stepped back, "Fine, fine! If you don't know, then I'll tell you." Muttering to himself, "Beacon outta be paying me a teacher's salary." Then to Yang, "Dust weapons are extremely powerful against creatures with Aura. Since Dust synergizes with Aura, it actually consumes Aura upon contact. This means that a Dust blade can slide right through a barrier of Aura almost completely unimpeded."

"So anyone who wields a weapon made from Dust…" Yang began.

"…Intends on killing things that have Aura. Namely, humans and faunus." Junior finished. "Since crystallized Dust is very fragile compared to metal weapons, they are largely worthless against creatures of Grimm. Because the Grimm don't have Aura, the benefits of Dust weapons are nonexistent. Dust weapons are used only to slay people, meaning that the Grimm Reaper isn't an average Huntress."

"The Grimm Reaper specializes in killing the kind of threat that thinks, is that what you're saying?" Yang questioned.

"Exactly."

Yang was curious. "I guess Dust weapons popular among hired killers?"

"Hardly!" the bear chuckled, "Once the Dust weapon breaks, and it will, it becomes completely worthless. You've got yourself a bladeless handle, which spells certain doom in a fight. You can't repair Dust weapons. You can only draw a new blade, and replacing new blades every fight can be  _very_  expensive. Prices for dust weapons are high because forging them involves intricate machinery that requires constant maintenance. Just imagine what would happen if someone tried to make a Fire Dust weapon with a faulty piece of equipment."

He clapped his hands so loudly that Yang jumped in her seat. She quickly snapped a glare at the bear. Ember Celica rose up threateningly. Junior held his hands up apologetically. Yang lowered her fist and asked more questions.

"Does this mean that the Grimm Reaper has someone manufacturing her Dust weapons? If we found whoever is making her blades, could we use that to locate her?" Amethyst eyes shone with anticipation.

Dark brown eyes narrowed slightly at the "we". Then he shook his head. "That particular avenue was explored in the past, with no results. So far, there has no evidence that indicates the Reaper working with anyone. None of the Dust weapon manufacturers sell curved blades of that length. Most Dust weapons are super short, like a shank, to keep their crystalline integrity as durable as possible."

" _Just when I saw a possible way to track Raven down."_ Disappointment was evident on Yang's face. "Then where does Ra—the Reaper get such huge Dust blades?"

"There are two possibilities." Two thick fingers were held up. "One, the Reaper has a manufacturing machine that she uses all by herself. That seems pretty unlikely, in my opinion. Just the upkeep on such equipment would be difficult, not to mention it doesn't explain the length of her swords."

One finger fell, one finger stood.

"The second possibility is that the Reaper creates her own Dust weapons without any equipment whatsoever.

"Huh?" Yang screwed her face up with confusion. "How is that possible?"

"There are rare people who are capable of forging weapons out of powdered Dust, using nothing but their own Aura. They either carry canisters of Dust with them, or they infuse Dust into the fabric of their clothes so they can crystallize their weapon at the drop of a hat. This sort of talent requires  _unbelievable amounts_  of training, Hunters training specifically. This explains the length of the Reaper's blade as well. If she forms her weapons with her Aura, she can make them any size or shape she wants. She isn't restricted by the limits of a machine."

Yang's head began to swim with the possibilities.  _"Being able to create any weapon at the drop of a hat would be ridiculously overpowered. Enemies would never know what to expect because they can't see your weapon before it's formed. This skill would be very difficult to fight against!"_

Aloud, "So if the Reaper can forge her weapons from Dust, then why carry multiple canisters of the same Dust? Why wouldn't she simply reuse the old Dust blade when it gets broken?"

"In the heat of combat, it would be almost impossible to keep repairing the same Dust blade over and over. Just imagine having to hold the broken pieces together, making sure that they are perfectly aligned, and manipulating your Aura in such away to cause the crystals to fuse; all while under assault. It's just much easier to draw a new blade from fresh Dust."

Hei Xiong stroked his chin thoughtfully, "That being said, there are rumors of those who can do exactly what you are describing. I can't even comprehend how much mental discipline it would require, to continuously reconstitute Dust weaponry again and again all while being attacked. But if there are people that can pull such feats, then they must be absolute monsters in combat. Not only do they have all the benefits of a Dust weapon, but they can keep breaking and reforming their weapon in any shape imaginable."

Large hands wrung together, as though molding an invisible ceramic jar.

"In their hands, Dust is as malleable as clay."

This was a whole new dimension of warfare, one that hadn't even occurred to the blonde before.  _"They could change their weapon into any different weapon in a moment's notice. Their weapon could be any combination of long-ranged or close-quarters. How could anyone fight against such flexibility?"_

It was mindboggling.

It was also completely unhelpful.

Impatience cooked beneath Yang's skin. She was certainly learning  _about_  her mother, but so far there was nothing she could use. The dragoness gritted her fangs and quelled her irritation. Her voice was hard, "Alright, she can't be tracked by her weapon. What's next on the timeline?"

The bearded man cleared the screen of superfluous data. "Right after Lucky's murder, the Grimm Reaper halted her hunt and disappeared."

"What?" Yang leaped out of her seat and marched to the screen. Junior highlighted the year 67 A.G.W. There was not a single dot on the timeline for that year, or most of the last year.

"The Grimm Reaper was a complete ghost. Her killing spree came to a sudden stop. The brokers theorized that the Reaper hadn't intended to be caught on camera, so she may have intentionally fallen off the radar. The more time that passed, the more they began to wonder if she hadn't finally met her match."

His finger swiped the screen and brought the next year into view.

"About two years passed before the Grimm Reaper stepped back into the underworld's view."

It was the year 68 A.G.W.

The year that Summer died.

Yang looked at the timeline and her mouth went dry.

The dots started in the fall and continued throughout the rest of the year. So many dots, so densely clustered they appeared to be a solid line.

"When she reemerged, it was  _with a vengeance."_

Junior selected the very first dot and a video spread fully across the screen. When it started playing, Yang was surprised to see that it was shot from inside a warehouse. Huge crates were stacked upon each other. Long fluorescent lights hung low from the ceiling, releasing flickering illumination across colorless concrete floors. Through the skylights, Yang could see the dark of night. It was not an abandoned warehouse, not by any means.

Men armed with machine guns marched up and down narrow crosswalks. More gunmen patrolled the warehouse floor. They were dressed like common hooligans, with any combination of hoodies and low denim jeans and bandanas. In the center of the stockroom were two men, obviously very important. One was probably the gang leader, judging from his thug life apparel. The other was wearing a crisp business suit and a snakelike smile. Behind Mr. Suit were a handful of proper soldiers, decked out in heavy armored suits and wielding military-grade weaponry that far outclassed everything the gangbangers were carrying. They were outnumbered by the platoon of mooks, but the difference of numbers was completely negated by the sheer amount of firepower they possessed.

Mr. Suit stood beside a collection of wooden crates, cracked open to reveal assortments of firearms. One such weapon was in Mr. Gang Leader's hands, undergoing a thorough inspection. The two men appeared to be trading words, but the camera audio could not pick up their conversation.

Junior stood beside the holographic screen. "This was a weapons exchange between notorious arms dealer, Gains Boro, and The Red Dragon gang. Nothing out of the ordinary for an illegal operation; no major psychopaths were involved. That's why it was such a surprise when…" He gestured to the video.

Yang turned her attention to the events playing out onscreen. There was no warning when she appeared.

Just beneath the ceiling, a massive hole simply ripped itself open and deposited the Grimm Reaper right on top of Mr. Boro. He didn't even have time to look up before a blood-red blade entered through the top of his skull and exited out of his jaw line. Nobody moved, except for the Reaper herself. She freed her sword from the deceased arms dealer and swung it through the gang leader's vulnerable neck, all in one motion. His decapitated head traced bloody cartwheels through the air. Before the two bodies had even hit the ground, the Reaper was already charging straight toward her next targets.

The group of heavily armored soldiers was just beginning to react to the sudden situation when the Reaper crashed upon their loose ranks. They panicked and shot their guns wildly, even as she landed in their midst. They may have even killed one of their own with friendly fire. Visible flames flowed along the great length of her blade. The fiery edge passed through their armor like a hot knife through butter. Their collective Aura would have impeded an ordinary metal weapon, but there was no stopping the Reaper's Fire Dust sword. The entire squad was dead before Yang could even exhale a lungful of air. The red blade crumbled to ashes as the last of its Dust was expended. With blinding speed born from decades of practice, dark-clad killer sheathed her hilt and drew a fresh, sulfur yellow blade.

By this time, the gangbangers had come to the realization that they were under attack. Gunfire rained from every direction. Crimson sparks erupted from the sinister Huntress as bullets bounced off her Aura. She quickly brought her sword down and another hole devoured her body. The thugs on the warehouse floor continued to empty their rifles riotously into the portal. A second portal appeared directly above the catwalks and the Reaper landed beside the riflemen, catching them unawares. Electricity cackled from her crystallized weapon.

Amethyst eyes were glued to the screen as the bloodbath unfolded. Cold sweat dripped down her neck. In the bottom left-hand corner of the video was the date. Her mouth felt as though it were filled with desert sand.  
It was the day after Summer's death had reached Patch.  
A hollow pain throbbed in her chest. It was the start of Yang's entire world being ripped apart.

It was the start of confused weeping.  
It was the start of trying to keep Ruby happy.  
It was the start of waiting for Qrow to come back.  
It was the start of watching her father lying on the couch.  
It was the start of staring at the blood-and-tears soaked cloak in Taiyang's hands.

Yang had always wondered what her mother was doing during the worst days of her daughter's life. Now she had her answer. Raven was butchering men with ferocity unmatched even by the creatures of Grimm.

There was no rhyme or reason to Raven's attacks. She simply slew at random, regardless of whoever was firing at her back. The smarter thugs attempted to gather together, seeking to combine their stopping power. It made no difference. The Grimm Reaper charged through the bullet storm, her Aura flickering weaker with every projectile. As their numbers whittled further and further, many of the mooks simply turned tail and ran. Raven prioritized the deserters.

One such man almost made it out of the warehouse when Raven tackled him to the ground lifted him up by his neck. He struggled in her single-handed stranglehold, but it mattered not. Her sword was a different color, ice blue. She slashed open a portal and tersely threw him inside. Then she turned her attention back to the remaining gangsters.

As the last of the gang members were falling to the Reaper's sword, Yang began to detect a shrill sound she hadn't heard before. It had been lost beneath the constant gunfire. It was a woman's scream.

Beneath her mask, Raven was crying.

_I cost my best friend her life._

Her wordless wails were filled with directionless rage, endless despair, with bottomless anguish. She sounded like a demon waking up from a nightmare only to find itself in an eternity of Hell. The way she fought, with such relentless brutality, struck Yang as  _desperate_.

The dragoness stood closer to the screen, inspecting the raven as she chased down the last few remaining fighters.  _"Those men aren't trying to kill you any longer, so why are you hunting them so persistently? They're small fry, gang members without a leader any longer. But yet you still run straight through their gunfire without even a thought's hesitation."_

The crimson glow surrounding Raven's body was scarcely visible. Her Aura was nearly bottomed out. Soon she would be fully vulnerable, rendered exposed by her own reckless abandon. And yet the blood-soaked soldier ceaselessly pursued her opposition. She fought with a berserker's frenzy, heedless of her impending mortality. Every step Raven took was one more toward her death. She was running headlong into her grave.

" _One day ago, Summer Rose died. Now you're fighting as many bad guys as you can without any rest. Are you suffering at the same time as your family? Is the thought of watching the sun rise one more morning excruciating?"_

At last, only one member of the Red Dragon remained. Raven had hunted him into a back corner of the warehouse, in direct sight of a security camera. The gunman was trying to open a door to escape, wrestling with the handle. Raven stepped into the frame, her shoulders heaving with every breath. The gangbanger raised his rifle at the armored slayer. She advanced deliberately, an implacable juggernaut. He unloaded his gun at the Reaper. Every bullet that struck her Aura caused her stride to snag. Her sword's emerald green blade dragged along the concrete.

Yang couldn't tear her eyes away as the Reaper slowly closed the distance. The gunman was shouting for her to stop, please, stop, but his cries for mercy fell upon deaf ears. He backed himself against the corner of the warehouse, still shooting his gun at the ruthless raven.

The Reaper's Aura flared and failed.

The gunman's rifle clicked empty.

Raven paused in mid step.

The last retort echoed throughout the spacious stock house.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

Finally, it was Raven who broke the silence. Her voice was guttural, "Well? Don't you have any more bullets?"

Visibly quaking in his boots, the gangster dropped his rifle. He raised his hands up and pleaded with a quavering voice, "I'm all out! Please don't kill me! I surrender! I surrender!"

"Then you're useless to me!" Raven slashed the blade just above his shoulders, taking off his head and neck. Then she walked over the man's body and kicked the door down. She walked through the door and out of the security camera's view.

" _She didn't have enough Aura to use her Semblance."_  Yang reasoned.

The video paused.

Junior spoke gruffly, "There's one more scene for this video." He tapped a key.

The video jumped to another camera. This one was outside, providing a sweeping view of a parking lot. There were a number of vehicles parked haphazardly in the lot, probably belonging to the recently late Gains Boro and the Red Dragon gang. The lens panned back and forth. Everything was quiet.

"Remember that yellow-bellied deserter the Reaper threw into a portal?" Junior spoke up. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled up a second video that bisected the screen. The new video was old footage, depicting the deserter in question just as he was bodily tossed into Raven's Semblance.

Junior paused the video at the moment of the thug's vanishing.

Blonde eyebrows furrowed. "What about him?"

At that moment, a body fell from the sky and  _bounced_  off the parking lot pavement. Yang's hand flew to her eyes. She heard the corpse rebounded two more times before it finally came to a stop. She opened a sliver between her fingers and peeked at the screen. The video was paused. The shape on the ground wasn't even recognizable as human anymore.

"Gross." Yang stuck her tongue out in disgust. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "What was the point of showing me that?" She put her fists on her hips and frowned.

The bear pointed at the clock on the screen. "Check out the timestamps between the cameras."

Yang glanced between the image of the gangster being teleported against his will, and the image of the same guy lying in a crumpled heap of his own internal organs. Amethysts lit up in realization.

"The time difference is huge!" she gasped, "Did he really fall for  _two and a half minutes?!"_

Junior nodded silently.

Mouth hanging open, "My favorite song is two and a half minutes long."

"If the Reaper threw you into her portal, then you'd have enough time to listen to one last song."

Mind racing, the dragoness muttered, "The average male's mass is ninety kilograms. It takes thirty seconds to reach maximum velocity in free-fall. Maximum velocity is sixty-four meters per second. The time to impact is exactly one hundred and fifty-five seconds."

Yang dropped her chin and closed her eyes in concentration.

Junior hesitantly asked, "What are you doing?"

She ground her knuckles into her temples and screwed her face up.

"Are you… trying to perform SUVAT equations in your head?" He was immediately shushed.

Then Yang slapped her hands together and crowed at the top of her lungs, "The dude fell for approximately nine thousand, one hundred and forty meters or  _thirty thousand feet!"_

Now it was Junior's turn to gape openly. Yang grinned teasingly, "What? Did you think that I got into the most prestigious academy in the kingdom using my sex appeal?" She crossed her arms beneath her voluptuous breasts and squeezed them together. The bearded man's eyes darted from the presented pair of ripe melons to Yang's face.

She threw her head back and laughed, "People tend to assume that I'm a dumb blonde bimbo. They only see one side of me and automatically believe that my other side is the same as the first. They think I'm perfectly symmetrical, that I'm easily processed into a role."

The blonde clapped her hands onto her hips and swayed as she sang haughtily, "But come at me, and you'll see, I'm more than meets the eye." She winked.

The information broker mentally processed this new data and filed it away for future reference. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Your calculations are right, that man fell for approximately five and a half miles. Of course, there's a ton of variables that we don't know such as wind speed, initial velocity, or barometric pressure. But the general consensus is that he fell from a portal at thirty thousand feet."

"Is that the maximum range of the Reaper's Semblance?"

Shrugging, "We aren't going to make any assumptions, but it's the furthest she's ever teleported anyone. Well, anyone that we know of."

The full ramifications caused Yang to freeze.

" _Raven has a six mile range, is armed to the teeth with Dust weaponry, and possesses decades of warfare experience. All of the above coupled with a mental illness that causes her to lose self control. Anyone and everyone within six miles of her could be in mortal danger."_

Her chin fell to her collar.

" _Maybe Raven was right to stay away from her family…"_

The last thought was too sobering. Yang shook her golden crown to banish the sudden gloom. Turning to Junior, "How did the information brokers react to the Reaper's return?"

The bear brushed his beard, "Not very well. The Reaper's rampage was such a departure from her previous stealth campaign that the brokers were forced to completely reevaluate her. She was no longer camera shy in the slightest, so they got tons of new footage. Unfortunately, it's a whole lot of redundant data. The Reaper uses the same tactics with every assault: guerrilla warfare combined with shock and awe. Overwhelming power united with lightning speed and the element of surprise. She's unpredictable, she's unstoppable, and she's gone before anyone can retaliate. The Grimm Reaper is the  _perfect shock trooper."_

Thick fingers danced around the screen, zooming through the timeline and selecting clips from various dots. Each video played simultaneously, depicting much of the same thing. The Reaper dropping from out of nowhere and landing amongst groups of criminals. The Reaper laying waste to a different crowd of evil men. The Reaper slashing open an exit portal and leaving pools of carnage behind.

"What's worse is that she was no longer targeting just psycho-killers, but criminals on every level. She made mincemeat of everyone from gangbangers to gang leaders, from weapons dealers to drug dealers, from terrorists to kingpins of crime."

Faster and faster, the clips just kept coming. Massacre overlapping slaughter. Death and destruction, repeating over and over. Towers of flames and mountains of bodies, all left in the wake of a single Huntress. A nightmare crusade that has lasted years and years. It has not stopped, not even to this day.

"The Grimm Reaper was solely responsible for the death of the Carmine crime family. Over the course of two years, she systematically targeted everyone that associated with the Carmines and worked her way up through their hierarchy. The Reaper slew his soldiers, his caporegimes, his consigliere, and finally the Don himself. She tracked him all the way to a mountain fortress where the Don was trying to reconsolidate his remaining forces. Don Carmine was surrounded at all times by so much firepower that even  _she_  would have been crazy to attack him in his fortress. So instead she formed a portal around him, right where he was standing, and brought  _him_ to _her_. They found his body on top of the mountain. She was sending a message.  _Nobody is ever safe."_

Yang crossed her arms in front of her chest, "Wow. The Reaper's really done a number on organized crime, huh?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, "That's an understatement. Quite a lot of people would rather not even speak about her. Some guys will even react violently when they hear talk about the Reaper. They treat her like a superstition; say her name and she'll appear. She's been elevated to a force of nature in the eyes of criminals everywhere."

"Everywhere, huh? So, does she have any particular places she likes to frequent?" Yang asked as casually as possible. She was doing her best to hide her hopeful expression.

Junior narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Then he brought up another file. A political map of Remnant splashed across the screen. Dots jumped from the timeline and scattered themselves around the atlas. Then a crimson line began to race from dot to dot at a hectic pace. Amethyst eyes watched the passage of years.

"The answer is no." The dragoness tried to keep her disappointment from showing as the bear continued. "The Reaper has no jurisdiction. She'll hit anywhere and everywhere. The kingdom of Vacuo is her biggest hotspot if only because of its heavy crime rates, but she'll strike within Mistral and Atlas too."

"But not Vale." Yang sucked in a breath. As Junior was talking, the crimson line representing Raven's migration pattern was busy ricocheting from dot to dot, filling the map. Yang's statement was technically wrong. There were definitely dots within the kingdom of Vale. But as the civilized landmasses became saturated with crimson lines, a very apparent hole appeared amongst the connect-the-dots puzzle.

In the center of that hole was the city of Vale.

"That is one of the biggest questions surrounding the Reaper." Junior pressed his finger right over the capital city of Vale. "We have no idea why, but she has apparently never stepped foot in our city. It's a complete mystery."

Little did Junior know that the answer to the mystery was standing right beside him.

" _Raven is keeping her distance from Patch. She's avoiding any possible contact with her family. Not once in the past seventeen years has she even tried to see me. If I'm going to find my mother, I may need to leave Vale."_

Hei Xiong declared, "The Grimm Reaper isn't invincible however. She may have done quite a lot of damage to criminal operations, but she hasn't gone unscathed either. There have been numerous accounts of the Reaper taking substantial damage while attacking. She apparently has a strict  _never-retreat_  policy, and that has cost her gallons of blood. Blood that the brokers have collected and examined."

"How has the Reaper's identity remained a secret if you have blood samples?" Yang questioned. "Hasn't anyone cross-referenced her blood with population databanks?"

Wearing a flat expression, Junior explained. "Of course they've tried to cross-reference the Reaper's DNA with criminal databanks. But she doesn't seem to have a criminal record of any kind. Not every person in the world has their DNA on record."

"If the Reaper was a Huntress, then wouldn't her DNA be on record with like the rest of the Hunters? I had to give Beacon a sample of my blood to put on their school records." Yang remembered how several doctors and Taiyang had to hold her down when the syringe neared her flesh. She shivered at the memory.

"Hunter records are locked up in some of Remnant's most inaccessible databanks. Hunters take their secrecy very seriously. Your records are in a very safe place. Beacon Academy is a virtual fortress, completely impossible to hack. They have hundreds of layers of separate encryptions, each layer of encryption so powerful that it would take thousands of years for the fastest computer to break. That academy's databanks are more secure than the Schnee family's offshore banks."

The bear paced as he continued, "The only possible way to bypass the encryption coding would be to break into Beacon's underground vault and access the databanks on-site. Someone would have to physically enter the vault located far beneath the school. Of course, sneaking into Beacon itself is already a monumental task. But getting through the sheer amount of security they have between the school and its vault would require a  **thief**  of incomparable skill. It's never been done."

After a moment passed, he added, "The Reaper's blood type is B, in case you were wondering."

Frustration gnawed at Yang's nerves. So much information, so little of it useful! She might as well have never even learned her mother's name. She was no closer to finding the elusive bird than the day she dragged Ruby through the woods. Her desire to punch something was rising. Was Junior's information worth her protection?

Through gritted teeth, "Enough of the history lessons. What's the Reaper up to now?"

The end of the timeline came into view. The dots were not quite as grouped together as they once were. Junior tapped the very last dot, dated last month of this year.

"The last sighting of the Reaper was six weeks ago. Apparently, she has been targeting the White Fang, much the same as she did the Carmine crime family. It seems as though she's giving normal human criminals a break while she's focusing on the White Fang. That's fine by me. If she can wipe out all those animals then I'll personally shake her hand." He chuckled good-humoredly.

" _Alright, he's definitely going to get a punch."_  Yang thought to herself. It didn't even shock her that Hei Xiong was speciesist. Too many times Yang has had to extract herself from a conversation when the subject of the faunus came up and half the people talking revealed their true natures. She quietly thanked Summer Rose for teaching her the value of tolerance. Now Yang only hates people for the  _choices_  they've made, not for the way they were  _born_.

In any case, this last sighting told Yang absolutely nothing.  _"I've seen her in the flesh more recently than Junior! I'm wasting my time here!"_

"What's next? C'mon, I haven't got all day!" Yang growled.

The bear glanced at the screen while stroking his beard. After careful consideration he shrugged, "Actually that was pretty much it."

"You better not be holding out on me!" The blonde bruiser dropped her fist on top of the mahogany desk. A sharp  _crack_  split the air as a hairline fracture broke along the grain.

He raised his hands up defensively, "There's not much more I can tell you. All that's left is a hundred hours worth of videos. But that footage has been combed over frame by frame. You aren't going to find anything that hasn't already been found. Speaking of time, I've left Miltiades tending the bar for half an hour by now."

The bear walked past the dragoness. He cracked open the door and spoke to Melanie, who was still standing guard outside. "How has your twin been handling the bar?"

Melanie answered with a strange voice, "She's been getting very tips."

Confusion was evident on Junior's face. "Well, if Miltiades has been getting a lot of tips, then that's good for her."

Slurring, "Wait-wait-wait, I misspoke. I meant to say she's been getting very  _tipsy."_

"Goddammit Miltiades! The alcohol is for the customers! Tell her to stop sneaking sips behind the bar and take her job seriously!"

"Okay bossir."

He shut the door again and returned to Yang. "Alright, I can't stay here for much longer. The situation up front is deteriorating and I  _am the owner_  of this club. You've bled me dry of all the information I have. Now, is there anything else you need or is our business concluded?"

Yang crossed her arms and thought as hard as she could.

" _How on Remnant am I going to find Raven? She's a ghost in the wind on the opposite side of the planet! Even if I left Vale, I wouldn't have a clue where to start searching! There has to be another way…"_

Junior interrupted her thoughts, "You're searching for the Grimm Reaper, aren't you? You've been asking questions related to finding her."

Yang didn't answer, but that was answer enough.

"Why are you trying to find such a dangerous killer?"

"That's none of your business." Yang snapped.

"Well," Junior sighed, "my advice for you is to drop whatever grudge you have against the Reaper and move on. You don't have a snowball's chance in hell of ever finding her. She's got a hundred million lien bounty on her head and an army of mercenaries scouring the globe for her. They've done everything anyone could think of, from broadcasting challenges to holding hostages to laying traps. If they can't find her, then nobody can."

She didn't hear that last bit. What she heard was 'holding hostages' and 'laying traps'. Then she immediately stopped listening.

" _I really don't have a snowball's chance in hell of finding Raven. The only contact we've had is when she has come to me! So all I need to do is think up something that would definitely catch her attention and come running…"_

A victorious grin spread across her face.

"Hey Junior…" Yang leaned close to Junior. With dexterous fingers, she pulled his scarlet tie out of his suit and began to play with it. The man tensed up as though he had found himself in the den of a dragoness. She smirked, "…There is one more thing you can do for me. Two things actually. First being another strawberry sunrise for the road. The second…"

" _This plan is quite possibly the worst I have ever concocted. It's stupidly dangerous and halfcocked. But a trap is my only hope._

_And every trap needs good bait."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The SUVAT calculations and variables that went into Yang's math session were all done and provided by TheLastSonata, author of Innocence and Vengeance. I would highly recommend checking out his stories. They are well written and soaked in angst!


	20. Transient Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven demonstrates her interrogation techniques.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have edited this chapter heavily from yesterday's release.

He woke up in agony.

Every part of his body registered pain, from his sore and stiff neck to his tingling toes. His mouth felt like it was filled with barbed wires, his teeth and jaw ached as though he had been clenching them for hours. There was an enormous weight on his chest, constricting his ability to breath. It hurt worst right between his shoulder blades, like a scorpion sting.

 _“What happened?”_ his head was muddled. His most recent memory was fading in and out like an out-of-focus video. A dull headache began to build between his brows, threatening to explode into a full-blown migraine.

It hurt like hell, but he had to take inventory of his surroundings.

First, he could tell he was sitting in a chair. A hard surface pressed against his buttocks. His spine was ramrod straight, supported against the back of the chair. His forearms were on top of the chair’s armrests. He could feel his boots flat against the floor.

He wiggled his fingers and toes, finding them all responsive, albeit with additional reports of pain. But when he tried to move his arms and legs, they did not budge. They felt tightly constricted by something.

Fearing the worst, he sucked in a breath and forced his eyes open. Bright orange rays stabbed right through his sockets, like fiery spears. He gasped and squeezed them shut again. Tears leaked out of sensitive eyes and collected on the inside of his mask.

Little by little, he slowly reopened his eyes. The orange glare burned like _hell,_ but it was tolerable in increments. Coffee colored orbs began to collect images through the slits in his mask. Anything further than a few feet was lost beyond a haze. Trying to peer through the fog caused his brain to pound, so he left it alone for the moment and focused on his immediate body. He realized that he was shirtless.

Tawny ropes crisscrossed over his lanky torso and wrapped around his limbs. His arms were bound to the arms of the chair and his legs were likewise to the chair legs. He could only wiggle his fingers and toes.

He squeezed his eyes shut again. Panic welled up from his stomach, blotting out rational thought. _“Oh god, where am I? Where am I? Where am I?”_

Thrashing against his constraints, the bindings bit into his flesh and burned like acid. The manila rubbed together and emitted a high pitched stretching sound. But it would not give, despite his struggle. The chair wobbled on its legs, threatening to tip over and drop him on his side.

His heart was pounding like a jackhammer inside his chest. His ears filled with the sound of his heart racing. He began to breathe faster and faster. The ropes around his chest tightened with each lungful of air. His skull was becoming light as a feather. As though he could simply fly away…

There was a weight on his face, pressing down on the bridge of his nose. Immediately, he found the strength to wrestle his panic into submission. He clenched his teeth and forced his breathing to slow. With sheer force of will, he began to calm the beat of his heart.

_“I’m a member of the White Fang! I’m not a scared rabbit anymore!”_

The burden of his mask was a familiar comfort. Being a part of the White Fang gave him confidence, and the ghoulish Grimm mask made him feel powerful.

He could feel his Aura working to ease his aches and pains. The agony had dulled to an incessant throbbing.

As the beating of his heart quieted, his tall rabbit ears picked up on the background noise. A loud _tick-tock_ filled the air, like he was sitting inside a giant metronome.

 _Tick-tock_  
Tick-tock  
Tick-tock

It was relentless. Like clockwork.

 _Tick-tock_  
Tick-tock  
Tick-tock

Finally, he opened his eyes and took a good look at his surroundings. The haze fell away as his mind cleared. The space he was in came into focus and he saw that it was a large square room with weathered red brick walls and a steepled ceiling. Darkness populated the vast majority of the room. Black shadows latticed with orange light, like a tiger’s stripes.

The source of the sound came from many huge gears, their metal teeth meshing together as they rotated against one another. There were literally tons of cogs and sprockets revolving in concert, stacked upon each other within the brick and mortar structure. A massive pendulum swung back and forth. The orange light came from tremendous circular windows with roman numerals painted along the circumference. Long metal spikes ending in arrow heads pointed at the numbers.

He realized exactly why it sounded like clockwork.

He was inside a clock tower.

_“How did I get inside a clock tower?”_

Head on a swivel, he nearly threw out his neck taking in his environment. His rabbit ears flopped around, slapping his chestnut brown head. There was a central support beam in the middle of the room that reached from the top of the tower to the base. He was level with the clock faces, so he must be in the turret, near the summit. Judging by the orange sunlight, it must be near sundown.

_“How long have I been out?”_

The room was obviously lived in, empty food wrappers and water bottles littering the floor. Crates imprinted with the Schnee Dust Company logo were stacked up high. There was a clothes basin filled with filthy fluids, but no clothes. In the corner was a naked mattress, plastered with blotches of unidentifiable stains that smelled of urine. Besides the comforter was a small candle stand, melted wax built up around its base.

Next to the candle stand was a scrap of tattered paper. _“A photograph!”_ Cherry realized. The photograph was obviously old and well worn, with crinkled lines crisscrossing the image. Straining his eyes, he tried to make out the picture. The borders were all black, with a large cone of grey in the center. Within the cone was an indecipherable shape, a couple of circular lumps with… limbs?

_“Is that an ultrasound picture? But who…”_

Something caught his eye, stirring in the shadows.

He stared into the abyss.

The abyss stared back.

A figure rose emerged from a darkened alcove. He could not see the person’s face or body, just a silhouette against stygian gloom. Black on black, the outline was invisible except when in motion. He struggled to keep it in his sights. As a rabbit faunus, he has enhanced senses like smell, taste, and hearing. But night vision is not a tool of his arsenal. Its profile vanished whenever it came to a stop, then it would reappear elsewhere in another shadow. The adumbration skulked around the room, keeping to the shadows. It moved with predatory intent, every muscle tensed and ready to pounce.

Cold sweat ran down his face. His heart began to race again, beating beyond his ability to tame. He felt like his rib cage would break open. His heartbeat grew louder and louder, deafening his ears. As if enticed by the sound of blood rushing, the entity quickened its pacing. There was no mistaking it now, the creature was drawing closer, brushing the mandarin sunlight.

Unable to stand even a second longer, he cried out with a shrill voice, “What are you?!”

It stopped and shadows devoured its shape. But it was still there, its eyes burning into his own. Then it stepped out of concealing shadows. The figure was a woman with tangled black hair, long enough to brush her lower back. She wore an ebony _kimono_ with a shallow neckline, exposing pale flesh. Around her throat was a single chain with a simple golden ring. A crimson _obi_ sash wrapped around her abdomen, ornamented with a pattern of dark feathers. Her shoulders were armored with blood-red spaulders. Sable sleeves and burgundy gauntlets protected her arms and hands.

Hanging from her hip was an oversized sheath with a multi-chambered rotary cylinder. Each chamber was filled with a tube of Dust. A sword handle protruded from the scabbard. She rested one hand upon the hilt, fingers unconsciously flexing around its shaft.

The woman’s waist was shielded by a crimson _kusazuri_ , overlapping armor plates held together by leather girdles. Beneath the armor was a stygian skirt, short enough to allow full freedom of movement. A garland of black bird feathers hung from her pelvis, opposite of her weapon. Long, muscular legs were adorned with thigh-high boots, black as the shadows she left. There appeared to be flecks of red splattered around her boots.

Every aspect of this woman screamed of a killing machine. But it was her face that caused his blood to freeze in his veins. A white full mask covered her entire face. The mask was shaped like an Ancient Nevermore, crimson streaks flowing along sloping crests like rivers of blood. It was a mask that he has seen before, in pictures distributed to every member of the White Fang. When seen, the very first thing they were supposed to do was raise the alarm to DEFCON 5. This single soul was worth the highest state of alert.

Crimson eyes burned behind four eyeholes.

The woman was the Grimm Reaper, the most dangerous enemy that the White Fang has ever encountered.

Panic shook his gangly frame as though he were a leaf in a hurricane. The ropes rubbed painfully against his bare skin. The blood drained from his face, leaving his cheeks cold. His teeth chattered. His long rabbit ears slapped against the back of his head. He could not contain his fear as the living personification of mortality was walking toward him. Her boots were firmly planted on the floor with every step. She marched with deliberation, a warrior primed for battle at any given moment.

She stood, the soldier of no sorrow, and stared at him anger in her eyes.

 _Tick-tock_  
Tick-tock  
Tick-tock

The pendulum swing seemed to be counting down the remaining seconds of his life.

 _Tick-tock_  
Tick-tock  
Tick-tock

The first person to speak was the Reaper. Her voice was low and menacing. “I don’t have to introduce myself. You know _exactly who_ I am. The only person here that needs to speak their name is you.”

He turned his head, incapable of meeting her scathing gaze. Gloved fingers grasped his jaw and twisted his head back. Her other hand slapped over his eyes and violently wrenched his Grimm mask off his face. He heard the mask shatter against the wall behind her. His naked eyes were wide with fright.

The Grimm Reaper leaned in, the white and red façade filling his field of vision. He was forced to meet her eyes. They were hard as coals, smoldered with a long-burning hatred.

She growled, “I’ll say this _one time_. Today has been a real _shit-fest_ for me, and I’m not known for being levelheaded on a _good day_.” Her grip on his jaw tightened painfully. “So it’s in _your_ best interest to answer my questions as fast as a whip. Withholding answers is only going to _piss me off_ , and that’s exactly what you want to avoid. Do you understand?”

_Tick-tock_

Exactly one wordless second passed. The Grimm Reaper released his jaw. Both hands grabbed opposite stiles of the chair. With a deafening roar, the Reaper flipped the seat and its captive above her head. Her arms didn’t even trembling. The ropes dug painfully into his skin. They were so tight that he remained firmly seated even while upside-down. His chestnut brown rabbit ears hung beneath his head.

She yelled into them, “I said! _Do! You! **Under! Stand!”**_

He screamed, “I understand!”

“What is your name!”

“Cherry!”

The world flipped right-side up for Cherry, just before the chair crashed back onto its legs. His head whipped back against the top rail. He wanted to cry, but was too scared to make a sound. The hare trembled in his chair, growing red in the face.

_“I can’t believe I caved that easily! I’m a member of the White Fang! I’m stronger now!”_

Tears of shame were welling in his eyes, so he squeezed them shut. He sucked in a shaky breath and held it, trying to steady himself.

_“No more! I won’t answer any more questions, no matter what she does to me!”_

Cherry heard the Reaper clap her hands. Her tone was caustic, “Well that wasn’t too hard, was it? I’ve got _a lot_ more questions for you about the White Fang, so keep up that obedient attitude and this won’t have to end with your death.”

Hot-blooded hate flooded the faunus’ veins. He spat out, “No! I may have betrayed myself, but I’ll never betray my family! You might as well kill me now, because I’m not telling you _anything!”_

Brown eyes stared angrily at the Grimm Reaper. Salty tears spilled down his red cheeks. His faunus ears flattened against his head. Cherry was seething as he glared daggers at his captor.

One hand on her hip, the rouge Huntress regarded her prisoner behind an expressionless mask.

“Picking the _hard_ route, are you? Can’t say it’s a bright decision, growing a spine in your position.” She sounded mildly disappointed. Then she shrugged her spaulders and turned away. The Reaper disappeared into the shadows whence she first appeared.

The sound of objects being moved around floated into Cherry’s rabbit ears. A pit grew in his stomach as he listened. He heard something rasping, then the grinding of a lengthy blade being drawn from its sheath. His gullet was dry. The rabbit faunus gulped, but no saliva sated his throat.

He couldn’t take the suspense. “Are you going to interrogate me?” he called out into the atramentous gloom.

“Yes.” The reply was immediate and blunt. The sound of rustling carried on unimpeded.

Cherry felt like he was falling into a pit. A part of his mind refused to accept that this was happening. He simply couldn’t comprehend his situation. _“How is it possible that I’m a captive of the Grimm Reaper, about to be tortured for information?”_ It was too much like a nightmare to be real. Any second now, he would wake up and bang his head against the top bunk in his barracks. And his bunkmate would laugh and call him _a timid rabbit_. And he would tell his bunkmate, while stuttering, that _he was a fat pig_. They would both laugh and then don their masks. Yet Cherry wasn’t waking up, no matter how hard he tried.

_“Maybe if I answer the questions, I’ll wake up faster?”_

Shaking his floppy ears, the rabbit faunus pushed down the temptation. _“I can’t do that! I pledged my life to the White Fang! I won’t let them down!”_

He shouted with the full might of his conviction. “Torture me all you like, I won’t break under pain!” His voice cracked.

Her reply was not what Cherry expected.

“Torture? Who said anything about torture? Pain is a blunt instrument, the tool of an amateur.” The Reaper’s voice drifted from the darkness. The menace in her words disappeared and was replaced with a clinical tone.

“When the body suffers too much agony, the brain begins to release chemicals to reduce its sense of pain. These chemicals, called endorphins, sedate the brain and diminishes its mental faculties. Someone who’s being tortured is not a reliable source of information. They will slowly lose their memories as their brain shuts down. That’s not the state of mind I want you to be in while I interrogate you.”

Blood-splattered boots carried the Reaper back into Cherry’s view. She was carrying four rope ends, two in each hand. The length of lines seemed endless. She dragged the cables behind her as she circled the central support pillar in the middle of the room. As she was doing this, the red-eyed reaper regaled the hare of her area of expertise.

“Now _fear!”_ The Reaper’s tone grew darker as her sermon continued, “Fear is a different story. When someone is terrified, the brain kicks into overdrive and starts to prepare for either flight or a fight. Fear stimulates the brain into performing _faster_ , because when your life is in danger, every second counts. That’s why time seems to slow when someone is afraid. It’s their perception of time stretching as the mind accelerates. A frightened brain is capable of recollecting memories _faster_ and with _greater clarity._ So the more you’re afraid, the more reliable your memories become. And if you aren’t capable of running or fighting, then you will be _very afraid **indeed.”**_

 _Tick-tock_  
Tick-tock  
Tick-tock

“So…” Berry slowly spoke, “you aren’t going to hurt me?”

“There will be some pain, but nothing really worse than rope burn.” The Reaper appeared to be wrapping all four ropes around the central pillar and tying them into knots.

Relief flooded into the hare and he actually laughed. “Just how stupid are you? You just told me that you’re going to try to scare the information out of me! Exactly how am I supposed to be afraid when you’ve already spoiled it?”

He rocked in his seat and threw his head back, “Are you going to jump out from behind me and yell ‘ooga booga booga’ or something?!” Chortles echoed throughout the clock tower.

The Reaper finished looping the fourth and final knot around the support column. She planted one boot on the pillar, grabbed all four cables, and pulled the lines while pushing off the pillar. The manila squeaked as it stretched. Seemingly satisfied with the strength and security of the cords, she picked up the remaining lengths and carried them over to Cherry. He couldn’t tell how long the cables were, but he estimated that they must be around seventy feet. Halfway from the column, she dropped the cords into a spool and dragged only the shortest lengths behind her.

Cherry’s heart was pounding like a drum. He forced a defiant laugh and sneered, “There’s no way I’m going to break just from a little fear. You don’t scare me at all!”

Without speaking a word, the masked woman began to braid the four cords into a complex knot that resembled a monkey’s fist. Once that was finished, there was only about seven feet left in each line. She stood beside Cherry’s chair and knelt down, rope ends in hand. He could feel a cord being wrapped around his left shin as well as the chair leg. The Reaper started to tie the cable around the legs. Icy perspiration trickled down his neck and chest, soaking into the bindings around his torso.

She was close enough that he could hear the _hiss_ of her breathing, the _rasp_ of ropes slithering, the _clank_ of armor plates jostling. His rabbit ears detected the sound of her heartbeat.

_Ba-dump_

_Tick-tock  
Tick-tock_

_Ba-dump_

_Tick-tock_

_Ba-dump_

_Tick-tock  
Tick-tock_

_Ba-dump_

Her heart was beating somewhat slower than the ambience of the clock tower. The Reaper showed no signs of exhilaration or stress. She was neither excited at the prospect of interrogating her captive, nor wracked with anxiety. In comparison, Cherry’s heart was hammering so hard he was positive that the black-clad slayer could hear it.

He inhaled through his nose. Brown eyes widened in shock.

“You’re a human!” the White Fang member exclaimed.

“It’s _rude_ to sniff a lady.” She scolded.

Indignation heated his words, “You wear the mask of the White Fang, but you’re nothing more than a filthy speciesist human!”

“Don’t assume anything about me.” The cords tightened around Cherry’s left leg until he thought his tibia would break. “I hate criminals and terrorists, no matter what species they may be. I was fine simply killing human thugs until the White Fang allied with my archenemy.”

The Reaper moved over to Cherry’s right leg with the second rope in hand. “Moreover, this mask doesn’t belong to the White Fang.” She tapped a finger on the white façade. “It’s a mask of Grimm, symbolizing the descent into monstrosity. Those who wear the faces of monsters demonstrate their nature as a monster. The White Fang started wearing these masks because humanity was treating faunus like creatures of Grimm.”

Then she shook her head with ridicule, “Besides, I started wearing this mask before the White Fang did. You guys had a change in leadership six or seven years ago. I’ve been a monster for _much longer_ than the White Fang. If anything, _I_ should be the one complaining about _you guys_ stealing _my look!”_

After his right leg was secured, she stepped behind the faunus with the third and fourth rope ends. While she was anchoring the rear chair legs, Cherry spat accusingly, “You’re just like every human! You don’t care about the plight of the faunus!”

“Neither do you. The White Fang attacks humans and faunus alike. It makes no difference if it’s a human-ran business or a faunus rights protest. You guys are indiscriminate with your targets. You will destroy anything and kill anyone, just as long as it makes someone suffer.”

The chair shook as she tested the tensile strength of the last two knots. The ropes squealed, but did not give. Then Cherry felt the cables around his body squeeze. Behind him, his jailor was tightening his constraints, restricting his movements even further.

The Grimm Reaper walked in front of the White Fang faunus. She leaned forward until whiteness filled his vision. Crimson glared into frightened brown.

Her voice was as cold as an Atlesian winter, “All you want is to make someone hurt. And on that regard, we’re not so different.”

She straightened her back and wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword. Thumbing a button on the scabbard caused its rotary chamber to spin like a dial, and then _clicked_ to a stop. Her grip on the handle tightened and she began to draw the blade from of its sheath. Inch by inch, the length came into view. Cherry’s eyes were locked onto the vibrant vermillion edge as it _hissed_ out from its confinement. When the very tip was freed, the sword was paradoxically longer than the sheath. The Reaper’s arms were spread to their full wingspan as she held her weapon in full view of its next victim.

The rabbit faunus gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering. He hissed, “You don’t sc—c—care me. D—d—do your _worst!”_

Nevermore mask tilted to the side, she strode around the White Fang until she was standing to his side. He watched her take a wide stance and lift her sword above her brunette crown. The scarlet length caught the orange sunlight. Her shoulders seized an instant before she slashed the blade down.

Cherry squeezed his eyes shut and flattened his rabbit ears against his head, waiting for the razor edge to cleave his skull open.

Instead, he heard a sharp whistle as the blade passed through thin air directly behind him. His heart jumped into his throat at the loud sound. Then an alien _humming_ noise began to emanate at his back. It was like wind passing over the lip of a bottle. Swallowing hard, Cherry twisted his neck to see the source.

A swirling cloud of red and black loomed behind him. The tempestuous mass was spherical and infinitely deep. Brown eyes were drawn to the yonic brume of the abysmal squall. An ice-cold breeze washed over the rabbit faunus, causing goose bumps to rise along exposed flesh.

“What is that?!” Cherry cried out, his voice cracking like a dry leaf. He whipped his head back to the Grimm Reaper, “What the hell is that?!”

One boot heel, spotted with sanguine spatter, lifted up and stomped on the edge of his seat, just between his knees. Crimson eyes bore into wet brown globes. She began to tip his chair back, his rabbit ears falling closer to the dark storm. The air around it was frigid like a meat cooler. His teeth began to chatter as the _humming_ grew louder and louder.

Bending over her raised knee, the sinful slayer leaned in close to Cherry. She answered with two words.

“My worst.”

With that, the Reaper kicked Cherry into the portal.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he fell backwards. The eye of the storm howled in his ears like a wounded animal. He felt like he was being pressed on all sides by a compactor. He wanted to cry out, but the breath in his lungs was stolen away. He tried to inhale, but it was airless like the vacuum of space.

_“Where’s the floor! How am I still falling?!”_

Then, just when Cherry thought his head would pop from the pressure, it ceased all at once.

Immediately, he was doused in ice-water. It felt like he had been cast into the Atlesian ocean. The cold soaked into his skin and leeched all remaining warmth from his bones. His chestnut hair was matted to his head. The cold snap was so great he couldn’t even suck in a breath.

And still he kept falling.

White-hot pain shot through his head like nails. All four of his ears were aching as though a screw were being drilled in each one. Instead of pressure crushing his crown, now it felt like his skull would split open from the inside!

And still he kept falling.

_“Where is the floor?!”_

Cherry opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was _nothingness._ It was just a tunnel of orange fog pushing in from every direction and enveloping his entire body. He was most certainly not in the clock tower anymore.

_“Where did the clock tower go? Where am I?!”_

Next he saw the ropes hitched to the legs of his chair. They whipped and lashed in the air above his head.

And still he kept falling. But now he realized that he wasn’t simply falling straight down. He was pitching backwards while plummeting, revolving until he was upside-down. He couldn’t see the ropes anymore, they were above him and he was facing down.

He sucked in a lungful of air. A larynx-rattling scream tore out of his throat. He felt his ears _pop_ and the pressure in his skull evaporated. He didn’t stop screaming.

Cherry fell through the cloud layer and into open atmosphere. Harsh sunlight forced him to close his eyes.

The fall came to a sudden stop, severing Cherry’s helpless wails.

Every rope released an earsplitting creak in protest with the jarring deceleration.

His skull whipped back and forth, cracking against the headboard. A fresh javelin of agony plunged into his neck. His rabbit ears dangled beneath him. Ropes dug into his skin like barbed wire, causing his eyes to water. He could feel the cords cutting him to the muscle. Blood welled from the wounds, saturating the manila strands.

Even though he was sucking in air as hard as he could, Cherry found that he couldn’t catch his breath. There was something _wrong_ with the oxygen in the air, as though it were rarified. Never before has his heart pounded so hard and so fast. It jumped in his chest like a firecracker, hot enough to burn. In contrast, freezing water trickled down his body, seeping into the ropes and mixing with his blood.

The air was cold, so cold against his skin. His Aura struggled to keep out the worst of the freezing temperature. Wind cut through his flesh like an icicle, threatening to pierce his heart and stop it cold. He shivered uncontrollably in his constraints, his teeth chattering.

All he could hear was wind roaring past his ears and the creaking of the ropes that held him.

_“No more! Please, no more! I don’t know where I am!”_

The only way to answer that question was to open his eyes. Eyelids parted and umber orbs gawked straight down.

He couldn’t even comprehend what he was seeing.

Unbelievably gigantic geometric shapes stretched in every direction, as far as he could see. They appeared flat as paper. It was like he was being suspended upside-down above a tremendous map. The map was of a _very familiar_ geographical landscape. Vast fields of green combated with blotches of darker green. Plains of brown marked the view. There were huge lakes in the distance, circular ponds of blue with long curving lines running from the pools and off into the horizon.

For a moment, Cherry was stunned by the natural beauty laid out before him. His heart began to calm.

Directly below was a tremendous blemish that reached out with grasping claws. Cherry was staring at a populated city from a birds-eye view. It was nothing but urban grey and beige, dominating the organic colors. It looked like a virus, devouring everything around it and reducing it to a lifeless state.

He began to recognition the landscape. It was exactly like the one he saw in his outpost’s atlas. Only, this picture looked far more _real_ than the representation on the maps. The longer Cherry stared at the scenery beneath him, the more he realized that it couldn’t be a still image. Blotches of darkness rolled over the portrait, like shadows from beneath a cloud. Comprehension struck the White Fang member like a thunderbolt.

Numbly, he looked at the sun. It was a picturesque scene. The setting sun was just above the horizon, casting warm orange light across the bottom layer of clouds. Purely natural light burned into his eyes, causing him to squint. _That_ was no image. _That_ was the real sun shining directly on him as it slowly sank out of sight.

He began to moan softly. Tears fell from his eyes and rolled up into his hairline. One tear dripped from his eyelashes and fell straight away from his face.

Cherry was hanging upside-down, swaying in the breeze, above the world of Remnant. There was ten thousand feet of empty air separating him and the ground, with only four ropes preventing him from falling through the gulf.

That tear had not yet landed.

The ropes began to shake and thrash, causing Cherry to swing back and forth wildly. He shrieked hysterically, desperately gulping thin air between screeches. His stomach churned as the chair span like a top. The planet below dissolved into a nauseating kaleidoscope of natural colors. His rabbit ears detected a distinctive _zipping_ sound growing loud and closer. It was the Grimm Reaper sliding down the ropes.

She landed on the underside of the chair with a _bang!_ The ropes creaked louder than ever as her additional weight stretched them even further. Her impact made the chair rock to and fro, jostling the rabbit faunus in his seat. Bawling screams split the atmosphere as the pendulous furniture swung in a wide orbit. Chilled air whistled past Cherry’s rabbit ears.

Sharp pain struck Cherry in the rump. The Reaper stomped on the underside of his seat. She hollered at the top of her lungs, “Stop screaming! The air is too thin up here and screaming like that is only going to knock you unconscious! You’re only alive so long as you remain useful! If you pass out, you’ll never wake again!”

The screams tapered to low sobbing. There was nothing else that he could do in his situation but cry and shiver.

The chair wobbled as his interrogator shifted her weight. Cherry couldn’t even see what the Reaper was doing. She was standing on top of the furniture while he was sitting below. All that he could view was the landscape beneath him. The sight caused Cherry’s heart to pound and his lungs to expand. His head was beginning to pound in rhythm with his heart.

“Right about now, you should start to feel the blood rushing to your head.” The Reaper declared, “That means you’ll be getting plenty of juice to your brain, which will help fill any possible memory gaps. With fear heightening your mental faculties and extra blood flowing through your brain tissue, you should have no trouble answering my questions.”

Remnant was revolving, the chair was swaying, and Cherry’s stomach was churning.

“First thing is a test of your memory. Do you remember how you got in my clock tower?”

He replied frantically, “I—I—I don’t know how I got in your clock tower!”

“Do you remember where you were before?”

The previously fuzzy memories quickly popped into focus. He remembered standing in a tower. He was carrying his trusty sniper rifle in his grasp, occasionally peeking through the scope every time something caught his eye. The sun was high in the clouds. Then everything became fuzzy. Flashes of red and black rebounded around his brain.

“Uh…Uh! I was in a watchtower in the middle of my base!” the hare exclaimed shrilly.

“It seems like your memory’s working fine. You were a sniper in a White Fang outpost, just north of the city below. When nobody was looking, I teleported in and nailed you in the back with a lightning sword. Then I pulled you through the portal and brought you to my own base of operations.”

That explained the scorpion sting between his shoulder blades.

“That was just a test, now the real questioning begins.” The Reaper pulled one of the ropes tied to the chair, then released it. It _twanged_ like a guitar string. “Here’s how it’s going to work. There’re only four ropes standing between you and certain death.”

She _twanged_ the second rope, “When I ask a question, you are going to answer it as quick as a whip. If you don’t, I’ll cut a rope. Then I’ll ask the same question again, and failing to answer will result in another rope being severed.”

She _twanged_ the third rope, “The only way you survive is if you answer _all_ my questions. If you don’t have all the answers to my questions…”

She _twanged_ the fourth rope, “…then I guess I’ll have to grab another White Fang.”

The wind rushed past the two of them, causing the chair to swing wider.

“So then, Cherry, are you ready to spill your guts?” the swordswoman demanded.

His answer came in the form of violent vomiting.

“…That’s not what I meant…” she muttered.

She waited impatiently for the retching rabbit to stop. When there was nothing left in Cherry’s stomach, and all he could do was dry heave, she stomped his seat to catch his attention.

“Alright! Enough already! I’m going to start asking questions!”

Cherry sobbed miserably.

“First question: how many White Fang soldiers are stationed at your outpost?” the Reaper thundered.

Brown eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “What kind of question is that?! Are you planning on attacking my outpost?!” he cried out at the top of his lungs.

_SNAP_

The chair pitched back at an angle, causing the whole rig to swing rearwards. A severed rope end dropped and dangled in front of Cherry’s line of sight. The Reaper had cut the rope that held the front-left chair leg. The three remaining cords squealed as they were forced to carry more weight. The hare out-squealed the crying cables.

The swordswoman plunged her blade through the seat of the chair. The tip surfaced scant inches away from Cherry’s groin. He nearly fainted.

“Don’t try and backtalk me, Cherry! You are in _no_ position to be asking questions! Now I’m going to ask you again in ten seconds, and you better have an answer!”

He began to wrack his brain as hard as he could, trying to think of where he might have seen the answer. The image of a computer document—a list!— began to emerge. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Cherry focused as hard as he could on bringing that register into focus.

“Time’s up! Now, tell me this time: _how many White Fang soldiers are stationed at your outpost?!”_ She bellowed.

Breathing heavily, Cherry cried out, “I’m thinking! I’m thinking! Just gimme a minute, please!”

_SNAP_

The second rope, the front-right, joined its adjacent twin. The whole chair immediately leaned backwards. The only two ropes remaining were on both of the back legs, throwing the rigging off balance. Cherry screamed even louder than before.

“Think faster!” The Reaper snarled. “You’re already down two ropes and still on your first question! This isn’t spelling well for you, Cherry! Ten seconds!”

Cherry’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his vision was hyper-focused on the city below, and his brain was burning from exertion. The list— a list of people—a spreadsheet—with numbers for each person—the last person’s number—what was it?!

“Third time’s the charm, Cherry! _How many White Fang soldiers… are in… your base!”_ The Grimm Reaper was rocking the ropes back and forth, swinging the chair like a pendulum.

“Ah—ah—ah!” Cherry stammered, unable to get the words out. He heard the Reaper tightening her grip on the rope in preparation. The list snapped into focus. He screamed, “Sixty-three soldiers! We’ve got sixty-three soldiers in that outpost! That includes me though! I’m one of those sixty-three!”

There was no _snap_. The Reaper made no sound.

Then…

“You better hope it doesn’t take two more ropes to answer the next question.”

Ice-cold wind flogged Cherry in the face, drawing red to his cheeks. His throat and mouth were so dry he couldn’t even swallow. He couldn’t even feel his heart anymore. Had it stopped beating?

“This question will be easier for you to answer, Cherry. How many of those soldiers are snipers?”

He sucked in a breath and sobbed. “Th—there are three sniper towers in the outpost, each one with four snipers. That’s twelve snipers at any one time. We watch every cardinal direction to try and see someone coming.” Cherry was so afraid that he didn’t hesitate to elaborate further, “Bu—bu--but we are on a two-man rotation, with half of us watching during the day and half during the night. So really, we have twenty-four snipers in the base.”

The rocking slowed as the Reaper silently processed this information. An affirmative noise left her throat. “Time for the next question.” she announced. “Although, it’s really a series of questions about one subject.”

Cherry was exhausted. His rabbit ears hung limply beneath his hair. The screaming, the constant swaying, the horrible fear, the hammering of his heart, and the suffocating altitude had drained him off all resistance. Every fiber of his body wept for relief. He couldn’t put up a fight even if he were standing on solid ground.

The sun was almost beneath the horizon. Everything was going dark.

“Talk to me about the Major of the outpost. How do I identify him?” the Reaper demanded

The hare’s lips were turning blue from the cold. His teeth chattered as he spoke, “His name is Major Ash and he wears a Goliath mask. He’s absolutely humongous. It’s impossible to miss him.”

“What kind of faunus is he, what’s his heritage?”

“He’s a rhinoceros faunus, so he’s got horn on the top of his head. He’s also super strong and has nigh-indestructible skin. He’s always boasting about his tough hide. The Major regularly challenges his subordinates to try and hurt him. ‘Take your best shot’, he dares us. But nobody’s been able to hurt him. His hide is durable enough to withstand sniper bullets.”

The Reaper slid a finger along the length of her blade. She muttered under her breath, “Yatagarasu isn’t going to pierce that kind of hide. Dust blades break too easily for that to work. Next, what’s his training?”

“The Major received Hunter training,” Cherry revealed. His words were filled with admiration. “He’s got an Aura and a Semblance. But because his hide is so robust, he doesn’t use his Aura to protect himself. He only uses Aura to reinforce his weapons and power his Semblance.”

“Alright, tell me about his weapons. What kind of firepower does Major Ash carry?”

“His weapons are a pair of great-swords that he dual wields in battle. One great-sword converts into a light machine gun, which he can shoot singlehandedly. The other turns into an elephant gun for long ranged attacks.” Brown eyes were glowing with reverence. “He’s so ridiculously strong that he can swing both of them at the same time with the speed of a dagger!”

Tapping on her mask, the Reaper speculated aloud, “If I tried to block heavy weapons like those, then my Dust blades would shatter instantly. What’s his Semblance do?”

“He’s got the power to redistribute kinetic energy across his body. If you hit him, he can dispense the kinetic energy of your attacks around his whole body to negate the damage.”

Cherry’s voice swelled with pride, “No matter how hard you stab him, your sword won’t pierce his hide! He’ll only feel a small prick over the entirety of his skin! If you burn him, he can spread that out over the rest of his body and turn it into a light suntan! He can be struck by a semi truck and walk away unscathed! His hide is so sturdy and his Semblance only takes advantage of that! Major Ash is completely indestructible, just you wait and see!”

Cherry began to cough roughly. He was lightheaded and completely worn out. He felt like he could nod off if he didn’t keep vigilant.

A thoughtful hum came from the Grimm Reaper. “With durability like that, I’ll have to hit him with something heavier than a semi truck. I wonder how good his landing strategy is…”

The hare secretly hoped that the Reaper would be slaughtered by his commanding officer. All he wanted was to see her chopped in half. _“She can’t break his skin, nothing can. The Major is undefeatable and she’ll be a fool to try and test that!”_

“That’s everything I know about the Major!” Cherry quickly wheezed. He was sucking down thin air desperately.

“Three questions down, two to go.” She stated. “Question four: What kind of AFV’s are in your base?”

Between gasps, Cherry rattled off the list of every armored fighting vehicle he had seen. “We’ve got APC’s fitted with rapid-fire canons, we’ve got a handful of stolen Atlesian Paladins, we’ve got a small fleet of Bullhead VTOL planes with built-in rotary turrets, and some stationary gun turrets mounted around.”

Her tone was heated, “Paladins, Bullheads, and APC’s are heavy duty weapons. Every outpost I’ve visited has been gearing up the same way. There’s no doubt about it…”

“…the White Fang is preparing for a war.” She glowered.

“I don’t… care anymore…” Cherry wheezed groggily, “Could—could you please just ask the last question? I’m… I feel like I’m… going to pass out…” His eyes began to flutter.

“Alright then, Cherry, the last question is the most important. You’d better think _good_ and _hard_ on this one.”

Gritting his chattering teeth, the hare mentally slapped himself awake. _“Just one more question. I just need to answer one more question…”_

The Grimm Reaper whispered the question. Her words were scarcely loud enough to be heard even by Cherry’s rabbit ears.

“How many people have you killed?”

_“How many people have I…”_

Brown eyes snapped open. A cold hand seized his heart. Cherry ceased breathing, his chest was tight. His entire body froze, as though encased in frost. He tried to think, but his brain had turned to ice.

All he could say was, “I don’t know.”

The chair shook once as the Reaper leaped up.

* * *

 

Raven flew from her portal and landed in the clock tower. She sucked in a lungful of air rich with warm oxygen and the smell of clock oil. Four taut ropes lead from the tower’s central support beam to the open portal.

With an unceremonious flick, Yatagarasu severed the ropes. Raven watched the cut ends as they were dragged into the portal. The abysmal mouth hungrily devoured Cherry’s lifelines. Then it snapped shut and disappeared. She returned Yatagarasu to Masamune’s forge and let both weapons hang from her hip.

She gulped hard to open her Eustachian tubes, equalizing the pressure in her middle ears. She heard a _pop_ and her skull ceased screaming in pain. The red-eyed woman rolled her shoulders simultaneously, hissing as they _cracked_. She kicked with both legs and her knees also _cracked._ Twisting her spine and bending her fingers back produced a symphony of _cracks_ and _pops_ that was undeniably pleasing to the ear. She grabbed her chin and the crown of her head, then twisted her skull as hard as she dared. Her neck made a sound like breaking glass and a sharp jolt ran through her whole body.

Raven groaned in relief. High altitude interrogations were killer on her aging joints.

One hand reached up and removed the ghoulish mask from her face, breaking ice where it had accumulated on its ceramic surface. Her free hand wiped across her face, brushing flecks of frost from her eyelashes. Cold water pooled at her feet where it dripped from her clothes. Raven had not expected her exit portal to appear in a cloud. She would have to aim better next time.

Masamune was beginning to run low on Dust. She flicked a switch and the multi-chambered cylinder swung out on a hinge. Raven reached into an open crate and pulled out a canister of Burn Dust. Then she fitted the canister against an empty chamber and watched it fill with volatile red powder. It didn’t bother Raven one bit that the Dust she used was stolen from various crime organizations. Stealing to kill, stealing from her kills. It was a vicious cycle. Well, vicious to her victims that is.

While Masamune was filling up, Raven held her mask towards herself and stared into empty eyeholes. She spoke to the mask as though it were an old friend.

“There’s sixty-two soldiers in that base, with snipers and heavy armor and air support, as well as a Major that has Hunters training combined with his natural faunus advantages.”

A desolate sigh escaped her lips.

“It’s like they aren’t even _trying_ to kill me anymore…”

Raven refilled her weapons to the brim, donned her mask of Grimm, drew open a portal, and stepped into the White Fang’s outpost.


	21. The Grimm Fake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang goes looking for some skulls to bash in.

“No! It can’t be _her!”_

A deafening explosion sent plumes of smoke and ash skyward. Fragmented debris rained down upon the heads of the closest people, even as spreading flames drove them to retreat and shock waves tossed them to the ground.

“I can’t die here! There’s no way I’m letting her butcher me like an animal!”

Chaos reigned supreme beneath the broken face of the Moon. There were many voices crying out in fear and alarm, all muffled by a thick curtain of soot and cinders. Earsplitting gunfire shattered the night as poorly aimed firearms were rapidly unloaded by panicking thugs. Bullets _buzzed_ around the perpetrator like a swarm of angry hornets. Her Aura absorbed what few projectiles found her.

“Someone shoot her! For the love of god, someone _shoot that bitch!”_

Above the pandemonium, a lone figure wearing black and red stood upon a stack of boxes. Upon her face was a dreadful full-faced mask. It was pure white, with insidious bloody streaks, shaped like the skull of an Ancient Nevermore. Crimson eyes burned with inconceivable odium behind four dangerously slanted eyeholes. She was laying siege upon the criminals like a one-woman army. She hoisted a metal tube over her shoulder and aimed it at the crowd below her.

“Holy shit, she has a rocket launcher! When did the Grimm Reaper get a rocket launcher?”

Horrified screams were drowned out by another world-shattering **_BOOM._** Thick oil-black clouds blotted out the battlefield. Those caught in the rolling smoke clouds began coughing and choking. Each contaminated lungful was immediately expelled and replaced by even more putrid tasting air.

“This can’t be happening! I never thought I would actually be attacked by the Grimmspawn!”

The mask-wearing Huntress thumbed a button on the launcher’s handle and the metal tube reconfigured into a five-foot long baseball bat. She gripped the blunt weapon with both hands and took flight like a winged beast. She landed in the middle of a crowd and smashed the club on the ground. There was a tremendous **_GONG_** like a church bell. A shockwave spread out from the epicenter, pushing back the smoke and throwing men like ragdolls. They flew until they were slammed against far walls, where they dropped and landed in crumbled heaps. Pitiful groans rose from the beaten bodies.

“How come she’s swinging a baseball bat now? Isn’t the Grimm Reaper’s weapon a sword?”

She roared like a wrathful dragon as she swung her heavy bat again and again. With each swing, she pummeled another gang member and sent them head-over-heels against a far wall. The impacts sent vibrations through her hands and up her arms.

“It doesn’t make sense! The Grimm Reaper has never set foot in the city of Vale before! Why is she—”

Her bludgeon impacted the current speaker with enough force to launch him straight into the ceiling above. His unconscious body fell to the floor. Pieces of ceiling showered groups of thugs like rainfall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a group of mooks gathering together to combine the stopping power of their guns.

The warrior woman pressed a button at the bottom of the club’s handle and the whole weapon converted back to a rocket launcher. She leveled the launcher at the group and squeezed the trigger. Exhaust smoke plumed from the breech end. A missile _shrieked_ as it rocketed from the barrel and toward the group. They immediately scattered, scrambling in every direction to get away from the blast radius. The missile exploded on the ground with a teeth-rattling **_BOOM_** and blanketed the area with smoke and wreckage.

“Hold up, has the Grimm Reaper always been blonde?”

Yellow hair flowed like liquid gold from behind the fearsome mask. The waist-length tresses were ablaze, as though she had dipped those sun-kissed strands in gasoline and lit a match on her crown. The incandescent locks made her a very visible target, even through the smokescreen. More dust-bullets struck the blonde warrior’s Aura, drawing her attention. The launcher transformed back into its cudgel form. The masked blonde held her bat in one hand as she jumped back into the melee.

One by one, the last remaining mooks met the business end of the hefty stick. When there was only a single enduring thug, the blonde casually tossed her bludgeon into his arms. The gang member staggered backwards, his knees buckling beneath the weight of the bat. While he was struggling to hold the weapon, the masked woman pulled her fist back to her ear and clocked him square in the nose. His head snapped back and he fell flat on the floor with a dazed expression.

Scathing eyes scoured her surroundings in search of remaining opposition. The survey revealed that she was the last conscious combatant. She marched to the nearest wall, smashed an exit hole through solid concrete, and leaped through into the city night.

The masked woman spread her arms as she soared, as though they were feathered wings. Cool nighttime wind whipped against her Nevermore mask, whistled past her ears, and swept along her lengthy locks causing them to unfurl like a banner. Time seemed to slow as crimson eyes soaked in the scenery.

All around the cityscape climbed and spread, an impossibly vast beast made from stone and steel. Tall towers shot up from the streets, forming rows of altitudinous spikes that scraped the azure skies. The metropolitan monster slept beside the coastline. The tail of the goliath was laid out into the sea, a tremendous wharf as long as three Atlesian flagships lined bow to stern. Pitch dark smog rose from cylindrical pillars, reminiscent of smoke from a dragon’s nostrils. Urban lights glistened like reptilian scales, golden plates reflecting silver effulgence from the Moon.

Gravity quickly took hold of the blonde and dragged her down. She fell like a wishing star, her brilliant mane following her curved descent like a comet tail. Plummeting into the space between two nondescript buildings, she kicked off the nearest structure and ricocheted between alleyway walls. Finally, she tucked herself into a tight roll and landed on the ground. She somersaulted to her feet in a single graceful motion. She mentally applauded her flawless landing while brushing dirt off her shoulders.

She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as though she were blowing out candles. The tongues of fire that licked down her golden hair were extinguished. Behind the mask, crimson faded into violet.

Yang reached up and removed the replica of her mother’s mask. Cold night air rushed to abate hot pink flesh. It felt like a blessing on her salt-licked skin. She shook her head to loosen her beloved hair.

The clothes she was currently wearing was as close of a copy to the Grimm Reaper’s uniform as she could manage. The Malachite twins were surprisingly eager to help the blonde pick out pieces from their wardrobe. They served as bouncers most nights, but also showgirls on special occasions. They had a vast variety of costumes to pick from, although finding anything that would fit Yang’s womanly frame was an Olympic event.

Miltiades had given her a dark _kimono_ with a salmon colored sash, not quite the right colors but close enough to be indistinguishable under the cloak of night. It was a size too small, and especially tight around her chest. Yang had to wrap crimson armbands around her forearms to replicate Raven’s gauntlets. There was no armor on her waist, just two differently sized skirts, red overlapping black. Black-leather belts were strapped around her hips. The tallest black boots that fit Yang only went up to her knees, far cry from the thigh-highs the Reaper wore. A black feathered scarf, donated from Miltia, hung from beneath her skirt. The stupid thing kept tickling her legs and forcing her to suppress peals of laughter.

_“I get the impression that Raven isn’t ticklish.”_

The Nevermore mask had been Junior’s reluctant contribution. Yang had gotten her whole idea after he showed off the replica in his office. The only way to keep the mask from flying off in combat was with copious amounts of spirit gum. Pulling the mask from her face felt like ripping off a band-aid, but far worse. She slipped the mask into the _obi_ sash across her stomach for safekeeping.

Junior’s other major donation had been his weapon, the baseball bat slash rocket launcher known simply as _Zhīshì._ Since a hunter’s custom weapon was like a fingerprint, Yang could not carry Ember Celica into battle. Junior was not a hunter, he merely carried such a weapon for self-defense. The dragoness felt naked without her golden claws. The handle of the bat collapsed like a telescope and she belted the weapon against her lower back, just above her ample posterior.

The Malachite twins had offered to try and dye Yang’s sulfur-yellow hair to match the Reaper’s oil-black tresses. But Yang had declined vehemently. It would be a cold day in Hell when Yang changed her hair color. Yellow was the color of her soul, and it was reflected in her amber Aura. To try and change her dominate color-scheme would be like rejecting an aspect of herself.

It wouldn’t have mattered even if Yang were willing to dye her hair. Past experience has taught Yang that hair dye is not fireproof. In the past, she has tried to inject red streaks into her golden tresses. She wanted to try and achieve a permanent flame-on effect, even when her Semblance was not in use. However, the very next time Yang ignited, her Semblance burned away all of the red color and put her back in square one. After a couple more mishaps, she admitted defeat and instead used the last of the red dye on Ruby’s short hair.

Yang reached into the sash and pulled out her scroll. She speed-dialed Junior’s number and held it to her ear. The man answered after half a ring.

She spoke first, “Hey Junior, I just finished beating down the bad guys on Maplewood Street. What else have you got for me?”

Junior acknowledged, “You just took down the Demon Snake gang, who are—or _were_ clients of my competition. Maybe they should have thought to take their business somewhere reputable.”

“We’re both benefiting from this gig,” Yang smirked, “ain’t we, baby bear?”

He chuckled. “My competitors aren’t going to like the loss of commerce.”

“Just keep feeding me the location of other criminals, and they’ll lose a lot more clients.”

A moment passed in silence. Then Junior spoke in a somber tone.

“Yang,” he implored, “as much as I love the idea of you knocking my competitors down a notch, I really don’t know if this is a good idea. Dressing up as the Grimm Reaper and fighting crime is going to attract a lot of attention. If you keep making noise, then _someone_ is going to notice and come after you.”

“And that’s the plan.” Yang retorted.

“How _exactly_ is this supposed to help you track down the Reaper?” he sounded skeptical.

“That’s for me to know and for you to never find out.” she stated firmly.

“Have you,” he broached delicately, “thought this plan through?”

She shrugged and admitted, “Not really. These things tend to work out in the end.”

Static burst through the line as Junior sighed in defeat.

An address appeared across the screen of her scroll. She uploaded the address to the scroll’s city map and found it to be on the other side of the city. That was fine with Yang, she could use the ride to clear her mind.

Yang strode down the alleyway. As she turned a corner, a yellow and black motorcycle came into view.

_“Right where I left her.”_

The Bumblebee was Yang’s most treasured possession. She had given it the name on account of its color scheme; as well as its long and narrow seat cowl, which was designed to look like a bee stinger. Taiyang has given it to his daughter for her 16th birthday. Both of them loved to ride, and the more powerful the bike the better the experience. Boasting a two-hundred horsepower engine with 1000cc’s, the Bumblebee was a force to be reckoned with on the road.

A built-in gyroscopic stabilizer kept the Bumblebee standing upright, even while in rest. Yang threw one leg over the seat and mounted her beloved bike. She draped herself across its frame and gripped the handlebars as she started up the engine. She could feel the Bumblebee trembling impatiently as she straddled the mechanical beast. It purred like a content cat until Yang throttled the grip and revved the engine. Throaty roars echoed off the alleyway walls. Then she released the throttle and squeezed the handbrakes. The back tires screeched as the rubber burned a black print on the ground. Yang swung Bumblebee in a wide arc and aimed straight down the alleyway. She locked her knees against the Bumblebee’s frame and ground her hips into its seat. The dragoness unleashed the brakes and launched into the streets of downtown Vale.

Yang shared an affinity with Bumblebee. Both the bike and the blonde are constantly raring to go. She could jump on the back of her bike and take off in a moment’s notice. She didn’t even need a reason. She simply _loved_ to ride fast. The roar of the bike as she pushed it to neck-breaking speeds; the power of the engine beneath her breasts; the wind tugging at her hair; the adrenaline pumping through her veins. When Yang rode Bumblebee at full throttle, nothing mattered but her and her bike and the road. Every extraneous thought was forgotten. Doubt and anxiety were pushed out and left in the dust.

It was like she could abandon all of her troubles behind, if she simply rode faster.

Seconds after leaving the alleyway, Yang was passed by a squad of police cars heading in the opposite direction. No doubt they were heading for the three-story building that the dragoness had left. It wasn’t difficult to spot. It had smoke clouds billowing out of a huge open hole in the side. When the officers arrived, they would find a battlefield full of unconscious bodies and an illegal weapon stash. Yang was only happy to put distance between her and the crime scene.

The blonde biker followed the directions to the destination and entered the intercity highway. Her signature reckless riding was almost an afterthought by this point. She could ride like a devil completely on autopilot, trusting her instincts to see her safely to her destination while her mind wandered aimlessly.

 _“Raven,”_ she contemplated as she flew down the highway, _“what are you doing now? Are you lying in bed and wondering what could have been?”_

She swerved back and forth, threading between and around other vehicles like a bee stinger.

_“Or are you like me, fighting as many enemies as possible just to lose yourself in the mind-melting heat of combat?_

A semi-truck came up to Yang’s right hand side. The exit ramp that she needed to use was on the far side of the semi-truck’s trailer. Rather than slow down and let the larger truck pass, Yang banked hard to the right. She tilted her bike until her right knee brushed asphalt and dipped _beneath_ the trailer, just to make the exit at the very last second. The adrenaline junkie was so lost in thought that she didn’t even feel the thrill.

_“Dad has proclaimed that he enjoys a good fight. But he never seeks it out and always gives his opponents a chance to walk away. That’s not like me. I’m always aching for a brawl.”_

Yang approached an intersection with a red stoplight. The dragoness spared a cursory glance at the perpendicular traffic. Then she blew through the junction. Tires squealed. A horn sounded. One car came close enough that Yang could feel the heat from its engine. A handful of colorful expletives were thrown her way. But she didn’t hear them. That would require slowing.

_“You, on the other hand, hunt down enemies to fight. Do you enjoy fighting as much as I do? Did I take after you, in the end?”_

There was a line of stopped traffic straight in front, waiting for another stoplight to turn green. After appraising the pedestrian density on either side, Yang chose the path of least resistance and rode down the sidewalk. It was late at night, so there were few walkers. She only had a single near-collision with a perambulator.

_“Do you have your ear to the ground, Raven? Will you even hear my calls? Will you even answer?”_

Slipping into a narrow alleyway, Yang came to a stop. Bumblebee’s engine shut off. It _ticked_ as the metal lost heat. She disembarked from her bike and it remained upright. Then she reached into the _obi_ sash and retrieved the mask of Grimm. The moment Yang put it on her face, she felt a sudden surge of power. There was no rational explanation for the rush of energy. It felt as though somehow she were tapping into the primordial might of an Ancient Nevermore, just by wearing its mask.

It felt _damn good._

Behind the mask, Yang was baring her teeth wide enough to stretch her cheeks. Suddenly, she was overcome with an animalistic impulse.

 _“I want—no, I_ need _to make noise!”_

Her head snapped up and she saw a fire escape leading to the roof. She leaped from the ground and gripped the cold metal rails. Then she scaled up the outside of the scaffolding until she reached its summit. Yang kicked off the banister and landed on the roof of a building.

The Moon gazed down upon the blonde as she threw her head back and sucked in a deep breath. Golden flames streamed down her curled hair. Eyes were stained red like rose blood. The dragoness opened her mouth and unleashed a deafening roar. Dust swirled as though a tornado had touched down upon her. Her cacophonous upheaval echoed throughout the night sky.

She listened as the bellow faded with each reverberation, _“I don’t feel like a person, I feel like a monster! Is this what it’s like for Raven?”_

Then another thought occurred to her.

_“Is this what it’s like for the faunus of the White Fang? Do they feel like monsters because they wear these masks? Or do they wear these masks because they feel like monsters?”_

Filing away that question to ask Blake later, Yang returned her focus on the mission at hand. She turned and began to run along the rooftop. Her muscular legs pumped harder as she gained speed. Incandescent strands flowed behind the masked woman. The end of the roof raced to meet her. She kicked off the ledge and took flight.

The rooftop fell away as Yang soared through the air like a dragon. For a glorious moment, she was weightless and free. Nothing could touch her from up here, not her troubles and not her doubt. The streets of Vale passed underneath her feet. She bent her knees just before landing on another rooftop. Gravel crunched under her boots. Her breath was hot against her face as she sprinted to the edge of the roof and leaped again.

Yang never stopped and never slowed. She was chasing a ghost in the wind on the other side of the world. Raven would forever remain out of her grasp if Yang didn’t pursue with every fiber of her being. The elusive Reaper held the answers to questions that have long been abandoned. If getting those answers meant exposing herself to danger, then Yang would go the distance without hesitation.

The address that Junior gave her led to a shipping warehouse in the downtown district. At ten thousand square feet, it was a small and inconspicuous building. Yang knelt on a roof corner overlooking the area. Crimson eyes scanned the scene, searching for possible exterior guards or security cameras. Then she noticed was the skylights. There were twelve windows evenly spaced along the roof. Rather than just blindly charging in, Yang saw an opportunity for surveillance.

In no time at all, Yang made her way to the roof of the warehouse. She treaded lightly over the aluminum panels, trying not to make any noise that could be heard from below. Hunters were taught how to move hastily yet still silently. It was a skill that Yang hadn’t exactly mastered yet. The blonde winced each time her boots caused the roof panels to rattle. Finally, she stood over a ceiling window and peered into the interior. Once she saw what was going on inside, she knew that Junior hadn’t misled her.

Files of tables were rowed up like assembly lines. There were many people working at each table, each performing a single repetitive task like robots. They wore wrinkly plastic suits over their clothes, safety goggles, plastic gloves, and surgical masks. Yang noted that most, if not all, of the workers were faunus. Some of them were packing little porcelain dolls into crates. Some of them were packing little bags into holes on the bottom of the dolls. And some of them were packing a white powdery substance into little bags.

Yang’s stomach tumbled when she realized that she was standing over a drug smuggling ring.

_“Okay, so it would probably be a bad idea to fight around the drug area.”_

She strode in circles around the roof, getting a better view of the interior of the warehouse. From what she could see, the majority of the warehouse was _suspiciously_ untouched. It seems as though the drug packing section was isolated from the rest of the building. The logical explanation that Yang deduced was that the warehouse was probably a front for a legitimate business. They wouldn’t want any possible traces of their illegal substances to land on their lawful exports, so they keep the drugs away from the rest of the warehouse. It appeared that only the porcelain dolls were used for smuggling.

There were crates stacked nearly as high as the ceiling. Open boxes revealed their contents to be ceramic plates, bowls, and cups. Rows and rows of shelves filled the storage area. Yang spied racks of porcelain plates, stacks of ceramic cups, and files of fine china. Beyond her limited line of sight, more crockery filled the shelves, waiting to be packed into boxes and shipped out.

The workers were not the only people present. Obvious gang members strolled around the floor, wielding automatic rifles and full length swords. Tattoos and hoodies and loose pants were the dress code for these thugs. They milled around the floor, keeping an inattentive eye over the workers and patrolling in sleepy circles. The late night had stolen their vigilance.

It would be their undoing.

Yang stepped on one skylight. Directly below was a small gathering of goons. Five gunmen were casually chatting to each other, weapons pointed at the ground, completely unaware of the Huntress above.

She lifted one foot and stomped on the glass. It smashed to smithereens and fell away. She drew her arms close to her sides as she plummeted. The dragoness descended in a shower of shattered shards and touched down directly in the middle of group. The circle of thugs beneath didn’t even raise their guns for a full second. Yang slammed both of her fists together. A deafening thunderclap echoed throughout the whole warehouse like a declaration for war.

Those immediately around her were stunned by the overpressure wave. They staggered backwards like drunken sailors, faces contorted with pain. With each of her following attacks, the dragoness bellowed.

Yang threw her first forward and took down the first gunman in front of her, while kicking backwards and nailing the second behind her. Then she drew the same fist back and smashed her elbow into the third guy’s face. Even as the third reeled rearward, Yang grasped his arms and swung him as though he were featherweight. She released him and he flew into the fourth. They landed in a pile of tangled limbs. Yang leaped in the air and delivered a diving elbow drop on the both of them. They expelled groans of agony and ceased struggling.

The fifth gunman was just barely recovering from Yang’s opening move. The barrel of his gun listed aimlessly as he sought to land a bead on the masked Huntress. She reached behind her and pulled out _Zhīshì_ in its compact form. Just as he squeezed the trigger, Yang expanded the baseball bat and held it horizontal in front of her. He unloaded his rifle in her general direction. Gunfire filled her ears and bullets _pinged_ off of the metal bat _._ Yang dashed forward, ducking and weaving even as she bunted the incoming projectiles. She hauled the heavy club back and then swung it into the punch drunk thug’s stomach. He hurtled like a ragdoll and landed in a stack of porcelain plates.

 ** _CRASH!_** _Tinkle-tinkle-tinkle_.

The chaotic cacophony was like splendid music to Yang’s ears.

Dozens of boots stomped on the ground. Yang turned around and faced the army of gangsters gathering behind her. Crimson eyes burned behind the fearsome mask of Grimm. Yang held _Zhīshì_ in both hands, like a sword, and pointed the bludgeon toward the group of gangbangers. The entire front line stopped in their tracks upon sighting the assailant. Mouths dropped open and eyes widened in pure fright.

Angry voices rose from the back of the platoon. The thugs in the back hadn’t yet seen the Huntress.

“Why did we stop?”

“Are we under attack or what?!”

“Who’re the idiots attacking us?!”

One of the hoodies in the front cried out with a terrified voice, “It’s the Grimm Reaper! She’s come to kill us all!”

Hushed murmurs swept through the crowd of criminals. Many of them were frozen in place, unable to look away from the imposing figure before them. Others were inching away, as though trying to find a means of escape. A handful tentatively pointed their rifles at Yang.

A pin drop would be the loudest sound in the room.

 _“Holy shit,”_ Yang thought, _“if this is how everyone reacts when they see Raven, then it’s no wonder that she’s able to tear through them so easily. They’re not even shooting! They’re so afraid of the legendary Reaper that nobody wants to be the first to attack!”_

If they weren’t going to fight first, then that gave the opening move to Yang. She pressed the button at the bottom of _Zhīshì’s_ hilt and transformed the club into a rocket launcher. She knelt on the ground and leveled the tube toward the center of the crowd. The front line fighters quickly tried to run backwards, only to find themselves walled in by the people behind them. A single soldier can move freely, but not a mob.

Yang squeezed the trigger and launched the first missile. It _howled_ through the air as it flew at the front lines. The rocket dipped and impacted the ground just in front of the closest gangsters, sparing them from being reduced to giblets. The explosion tossed them over the heads of the other gangsters, where they landed in crumpled heaps.

Yang sucked in a breath and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Don’t even bother praying! _God can’t save you now!”_

Flames flowed down her curled locks. Crimson eyes, boiling pools of blood, fired scathing glares into the hearts of her enemies. Heat and rage poured from the masked Huntress. The Reaper stood in the center of a firestorm, declaring blasphemies while wearing the face of a godless monster. She roared like a demon straight out of the Book of Luna. The effect was immediate and catastrophic. Half of the gangsters turned and tried to run, leaving the other half to fight for their lives. They were tripping over themselves in their attempts to escape.

Three gangsters ran toward Yang while swinging swords above their heads. _Zhīshì_ returned to its melee form and Yang gripped it tightly in one hand. The first one to reach her didn’t even get to slash his weapon. She raced to meet him and swung an uppercut into his jaw. His head whipped up and he fell to his knees, eyes rolled into the back of his head.

The second thrust the tip of his sword at Yang’s stomach. She backhanded the flat of the blade with her free fist and it flew from the swordsman’s hand. Then she swung _Zhīshì_ and crushed his nose flat. Blood spurted from his face and he howled in anguish. The third swordsman ran around her and slashed at her exposed back. Yang held _Zhīshì_ behind her and felt the blade deflect off of the blunt weapon. Then she spun as fast as a top and delivered a roundhouse kick to his skull. His head bounced off the ground and didn’t move.

More and more gangsters began to surround the dragoness. Some held firearms like pistols, assault rifles, and shotguns. Others were wielding melee weapons like swords, hatchets, and sledgehammers. A familiar heat began to pump through Yang’s veins. Adrenaline flooded her body and caused her heart to pound harder. She could feel her Semblance flare in anticipation.

Beneath the mask, a wide grin split across her face.

Several fighters rushed to meet the Reaper. She ducked beneath one blade and returned the favor with a left hook to his jaw. A hatchet nearly buried itself in her spine, but she sidestepped and delivered a spinning backhand to the axe-wielder behind her. Even as he stumbled back, Yang was following up with a home-run strike with her bat. His unconscious body was sent flying and he slammed against a towering stack of crates. The column of crates teetered dangerously. Then it toppled over. Wooden boxes crashed on the ground and exploded their contents all over the floor. The air was filled with musical notes of breaking porcelain.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a gangbanger screaming into a handheld radio. He was probably calling for reinforcements.

Bullets whizzed through the air past Yang’s ear and bounced off her Aura. There were three mooks with rifles standing on the catwalks above her. She spun to face the gunmen and leveled her rocket launcher in their direction. She squeezed the trigger and fire erupted from the breech end. One unfortunate gangster was running up behind her and received a face-full of flames. A rocket _screamed_ out of _Zhīshì’s_ tube and detonated against the catwalk. The suspended bridge shook and fell apart with the sound of sheering metal. While the catwalks were collapsing, Yang was fighting more and more thugs as they arrived in droves.

Even without Ember Celica, the blonde boxer’s fists could send a man flying. She alternated between punching, kicking, and swinging the baseball bat. If a gangster slipped into _Zhīshì’s_ minimum range, he found himself eating a knuckle sandwich. Every time someone tried to get cute with a gun, Yang responded with a rocket. It was working so well that she was beginning to wonder if she could change her shotgun-gauntlets to launcher-gauntlets.

Yang blocked a sledgehammer with _Zhīshì_. The impact ran up her arms and numbed her muscles. Unable to move her biceps for a second, she instead kicked the hammer-man’s knees and sent him tumbling to the ground. Before he could return to his feet, she flipped in place and landed a double leg drop on top of his skull.

The dragoness was still flat on her back when one mook dove on top of her body and tried to pin her down. Then another one landed on top of the first. Then another one and another one and another one. They kept piling on each other, each adding to the weight pressing down on Yang. She was being crushed beneath a growing tower of sweaty gang members.

Golden flames sputtered out and crimson eyes faded into violet. She suppressed her Semblance and felt it beginning to build within her. Yang tightened all of her muscles like coiled springs. She waited, even as she felt her spine flattening against the concrete. She waited, even as her lungs burned with need. She waited, even as her bones creaked with the mounting stress.

Then her Semblance peaked and Yang held back her attack no more. With a tremendous bellow, the dragoness unleashed all of her power at once. She flexed every muscle in her body. The bodies piled on top of her were as weightless as styrofoam. She erupted like a volcano, an amber explosion that launched every gangster on top of her against the ceiling. Ten unconscious bodies fell like raindrops. Her shoulders were heaving as she sucked in sweet air.

Breathing deep, Yang turned to face the remaining gangsters. She picked up _Zhīshì_ and knocked it against her boots.

Two tank-like thugs charged at her from opposite directions. Yang slung the bludgeon behind her back and braced herself. They slammed into her simultaneously, but Yang absorbed their twin tackles without budging. Then she grabbed both of their skulls knocked them together. Yang took off running, pulling the stunned brutes behind her. Up ahead there were two parallel aisles, one facing the other, their shelves stacked with fragile pottery. Yang held her captives to her sides and charged down the middle of the aisles. She dragged the thugs against the shelves and smashed them against every piece of porcelain crockery. Not a single ceramic plate was left unbroken. Yang exited from the aisles and let the defeated ruffians drop to the ground. Blood oozed down their faces. Broken porcelain pieces were embedded in their skin.

She heard the sound of something _sharp_ passing through the air behind her. She instinctively tilted her head to the side just as a throwing dagger hurtled over her shoulder. Turning to face the new attacker, she saw a distinctly Asian gangbanger with crimson tattoos on his fingers and knuckles. He wore a leather jacket, but no shirt underneath. Beneath his coat appeared to be a lean, yet muscular body. He grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled them apart. Rows of throwing daggers lined his inner jacket. The knife thrower drew two more daggers and threw them at Yang. She could hardly even see his hands; they were a blur of motion.

Sidestepping one dagger, Yang swung _Zhīshì_ and knocked the second dagger out of the air. She was just about to run toward the knife thrower when she felt cold steel slap around her left wrist.

_“Shit! The knife thrower distracted me!”_

A quick glance revealed the steel to be a thick length of chain circling her forearm. The other end was being held by a huge man with bulging muscles. Before she could react, he gripped his chain with both hands and pulled as hard as he could. Yang was yanked off balance and nearly fell to the ground. Without warning, a razor-sharp knife struck against Yang’s neck. Her Aura only just managed to stop it from piercing her throat. She knew that the next knife would most likely reach its target.

She managed to stay on her feet and quickly adopted a wide stance. _Zhīshì_ fell to the floor at her feet with a bass _bonging_. She gripped the chain with both of her hands. Then Yang wrenched on the chain as hard as _she could!_

The huge thug was pulled clear off his feet. He flew face-first toward Yang, who was waiting for him. She leaped from the ground met him in midair. She slammed her knee against his face. Then she clutched her hands together and delivered a sledgehammer of a strike that spiked him straight down. Concrete cracked upon his impact. Yang landed beside his comatose body and ducked another flying dagger.

She picked up _Zhīshì_ and transformed it into its launcher form. She leveled the tube at the knife thrower. He slipped knives in between each of his fingers. The moment she pulled the trigger, he threw all of the knives at Yang simultaneously. A missile flew straight at the Asian gangbanger. One of the daggers intercepted the missile and caused it to detonate before it could reach its target.

A flower of flames bloomed between the combatants. The explosion shook Yang’s teeth. A thick ashen cloud covered the battlefield. Without hesitation, Yang reverted her launcher to the club and charged though the smokescreen. The smoke stung her eyes. She exited the other side, just in front of the knife thrower. His mouth fell open in shock just before the heavy weapon swung into his face. An instant before his teeth became acquainted with his uvula, he ducked and somersaulted beneath Yang’s strike. Springing to his feet, the Asian gangster stabbed two knives at the blonde’s exposed back. She quickly thrust _Zhīshì’s_ hilt backwards and caught him squarely in his solar plexus. He staggered back and grabbed his torso, face contorted with pain. The metal bludgeon traced a wide vertical arc as it slammed down on his head. His skull bounced off the concrete with a nasty _crack._

Silence fell over the battlefield.

Every muscle in her body burned like overcooked rubber. Sweat trickled down her face and neck. Her knuckles were cracked and bleeding. She could scarcely hold onto _Zhīshì’s_ handle. Breathing was laborious. She knew that when she took off her clothes, there would be bruises all up her body. The dragoness couldn’t stop grinning.

Yang looked at her Aura gauge. She was scraping a measly thirty percent. She felt like she had been fighting all day. Upon further consideration, she realized that this was actually pretty accurate. Starting from this morning, Yang had sparred with a bunch of different opponents at the gymnasium, then her own partner, then took a short break at Junior’s nightclub, and now she has been attacking criminals all night.

The feline faunus’ words echoed in Yang’s weary mind. _“You need to take breaks between bouts to rest your body. You're only hurting yourself!”_ She could practically see Blake’s frown-y face on the back of her eyelids.

Putting her hands on her lower-back, Yang stretched her spine rearward and heard a series of _cracks_ and _pops_. The rush of relief elicited a deep groan from the dragoness.

_“Alright, alright! I’ll head back to Junior’s club and return all his stuff. Then I’ll go to Beacon and get some sleep.”_

That’s when the sound of two hands clapping drifted into Yang’s ears. Immediately, she forgot all of her aches and brought _Zhīshì_ to bear. She faced the source of the noise. Then she did a double take.

Strolling toward her was a tall, middle-aged man in a flamboyant outfit. The entire lurid ensemble was divided between two primary colors, red and blue. His hair was a mass of curls that flowed down past his shoulders and ended with a bow. He wore a knee-length _justaucorps_ coat; one side patterned with icy blue snowflake and the other side with ornate crimson flames. A great number of golden buttons ran down the length of the lapels. The sleeves ended with thick upturned cuffs and golden cufflinks. Over his left shoulder was a waist-length gold-trimmed cape made from jacquard fabric and decorated with elaborate fire decals.

Beneath the overcoat was a frilly azure doublet. Around his neck was a cambric jabot emblazoned with a decorative sigil. It featured two crossing daggers. Upon his head was a gaudy tricorn hat embellished with frills and a huge peacock feather. Knee length petticoat breeches and scarlet stockings adorned his legs. Black square-toed boots, golden buckles polished to a gleam, completed the ostentatious attire.

The man looked like an aristocrat prepared to attend a historical baroque-themed party. The sight was so surreal that Yang wondered if she were dreaming.

His skin was too pale, as though he had not seen the sun in quite some time. He clapped white satin gloves as he approached. A serpentine smirk slithered across thin lips.

As he came closer and closer, Yang could feel a pit growing in her stomach. Instincts whispered warnings in her ears, telling her that _this man was very dangerous._ It was something about his eyes. The upturn in his blue eyes appeared to be a sign of delight. But the emptiness in those plutonian pits…

…was like staring into the mismatched eyes of little Miss Neo.

The masked Huntress tightened her grip on _Zhīshì_ until her knuckles bleached.

He spoke first. The dulcet tones coming from his lips gave Yang a surprise. And so did the volume.

“Congratulations!” he screamed dramatically. He raised his hands above his head and cried out, “The Grimm Reaper certainly lives up to the notorious legend that I have heard so much about…”

Yang’s bewildered expression was hidden behind the mask.

“…is what I would say if I were a fool. Anyone with half of a brain could tell upon a single glance that you are _not_ the Reaper. The only thing you have that is similar to the Reaper is her mask.”

The man began to pace back and forth, gesticulating wildly. Yang caught sight of something bulging beneath the arm of his coat. When he turned, there was an identical protuberance on the opposite side. She surmised, _“He has a pair of weapons, but they’re small enough to fit in his coat.”_

His voice was full of disdain as he rattled off a list. “The clothes you wear scarcely resemble her attire, the weapon you wield is not the same, your hair is the wrong color, you have a far different body shape…” Yang could feel his eyes roaming her curves.

Then he gestured to the moaning and groaning bodies laid out like abandoned action figures. “And to top it all off, you haven’t even killed a single one of these weak buffoons!” He thrust an accusatory finger at Yang, “If you’re attempting to copy the Reaper, then you’re doing a terrible job.”

He slapped a hand upon his forehead. “Ah, but I am forgetting my manners.” Swiftly, he removed his tricorn hat and placed it over his heart, “My name is Rogue Froideur, pleased to make your acquaintance.” Then he swept the tricorn in Yang’s direction, “What is your name?”

Yang thrust her pelvis to the side and rested her hand on her hip, “I ain’t falling for that, chucklehead.”

Irritation flitted across his expression, then it settled back to the same condescending smirk. “What a rude lady. I suppose I’ll simply have to call you ‘the Grimm Fake’. How does that sound to you?”

She didn’t answer. She was rather let down that her disguise hadn’t even lasted a single night. In the end though, it didn’t matter if the criminal element really believed that she was the Reaper or not. The important thing was that news of a blonde crime-fighter wearing the Reaper’s mask was circulated all around the globe.

Froideur proclaimed, “I have desired a chance to test my mettle against the Grimm Reaper for _quite some time._ So, try to imagine my delight when I heard over the radio that the Reaper was attacking the very warehouse I was stationed within!” He pointed at his mouth, which was stretched with an exaggerated smile.

“Now, try to imagine my utter disenchantment when I arrive and find out that the intruder is nothing more than a Grimm Fake.” The corners of his lips plunged dramatically and he began to shake his head sadly.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Yang said sarcastically.

“What I would like to know,” Froideur tapped his finger against his chin, “is your reason for attacking the Iron Kings. What did we do to you? I imagine that you have a fairly sensible _raison d'être_. What could possibly stipulate such an assault?”

“The Iron Kings? Is that the name of your gang? I didn’t even know, I’m just here to bash some skulls in.”

Her flippant attitude clearly did not win her any favors. Froideur’s smirk vanished and his eyes became narrow slits. “You… didn’t even know who we are?” There was an edge in his voice. He swept his hand around the battle ruptured warehouse, “All of this, just because you wanted to _bash some skulls in?”_

“Eh… what can I say?” Yang held her hands up and shrugged her shoulders, “I love a good fight.” She paused, then goaded, “Not that I found one here. The Iron Kings, my plush ass.” She slapped her ample posterior for emphasis. “You guys might wanna change your name to something like The Wet Cardboard Kings.”

The diamond edge of Froideur’s jaw-line flexed as he clenched his teeth. “I see, you’re just like every attention-starved urchin in your generation. Doing anything you can, just to get noticed.”

Yang felt her Semblance flare briefly in response to his insults. _“The thing is, he ain’t exactly wrong.”_ She pledged to knock his lights out.

“Do you truly believe that you could simply _waltz into_ our operation _,_ _attack_ everyone in sight, then _exit stage left_ without any consequences?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” She confessed, tongue in cheek.

Froideur was becoming visibly angrier. His lipped pressed together hard enough to form a narrow white line. “What makes you think that it will be _so easy?”_

Glancing around at the heaps of unconscious Iron Kings, “Uh… recent experience maybe?” She scratched the back of her head.

Nostrils flaring in outrage, Froideur ranted, “You must be one of Beacon’s brats. Simple teenagers are being armed with Aura and Semblances. Powers that were once considered to be holy gifts, bestowed upon chosen heroes, are now merely the playthings of children. Well, your arrogance will cost you greatly.”

He reached inside his _justaucorps_. Yang’s eyes were drawn to the armaments she had spied before. Twin gilded handles glittered golden. Ornate engravings snaked up the handles. One was inset with rubies, the other with sapphires. Froideur gripped the handles and drew his weapons out in the open.

They were a pair of daggers; seven inches long. Each blade was colored like the jewels on their hilts, bright red and pale blue. Light caught on the length of the blades and glittered like sand.

Or like Dust.

Warning bells rang in Yang’s head. She quickly returned to her previous fighting stance. The speed in which she fell to a defensive stance seemed to amuse Froideur greatly.

“Oh ho,” he chuckled, “so you have a brain after all. Only a mindless fool would underestimate the threat of a Dust weapon. Behold the daggers of Ice and Fire!” He twirled the twin weapons in his hands.

Yang bellowed, “How about you behold _this!”_

The blonde kicked off the ground and soared toward the dandy aristocrat. She brought _Zhīshì_ straight down upon Froideur’s skull. He skipped daintily to the side just as the heavy strike impacted the ground where he previously stood. Concrete shattered and erupted toward the ceiling. The force of Yang’s attack created a shockwave that carried bits and pieces of debris away from the epicenter. Crimson eyes never lost sight of the colorful combatant.

Rogue spiraled as he landed a good distance away. The instant his toes touched the ground, he dashed straight at Yang. Fire and Ice twirled in his palms, their razor edges glinting dangerously. With her left hand, Yang lugged _Zhīshì_ along the ground, aiming for his kneecaps. Froideur gracefully hopped over the metal bat and plunged Ice toward Yang’s stomach with a straight stab. Yang lifted one leg and performed a standing hook kick, catching Rogue’s extended arm and deflecting his thrust. He withdrew Ice and attacked with Fire, the dagger singing as it cut the air. Her right hand clenched into a fist and she backhanded the blade away. Immediately, hot agony ripped across the back of her hand and bright red blood ruptured from a fresh gash.

_“Dammit! I can’t rely on my Aura to stop his Dust weapons!”_

Yang hissed between her teeth as she pulled back her injured hand. At the same time, she swept _Zhīshì_ in front of her body. Rogue leaped away from the bludgeon and flipped through the air. Taking her eyes off him for a split second, she quickly assessed the damage. The cut was shallow and hurt like a _bitch_ , but Yang’s Aura was already trying to stitch the skin back together. There was no time to stem the bleeding, as Rogue was already on the assault.

_“He’s fast!”_

Spinning on his toes like a top, the two-toned duelist pirouetted toward the dragoness. He resembled a red and blue tornado. She held _Zhīshì_ vertically, at the top and the hilt. Fire and Ice became blurs as he crashed against her defenses. The twin blades struck the bludgeon in rapid succession. They were so fast there was no space for a counterattack. Waves of blistering heat and freezing cold buffered against Yang as she struggled to keep her weapon up. With an ugly roar, she pushed against the assault and forced Rogue to back away.

Her arms felt like wet noodles and the back of her hand was aching something fierce. _“Now I_ really _wish I had Ember Celica.”_

Refusing to stay on the defense, Yang ran at Rogue. Her club traced a vertical arc as she slammed it down upon his tricorn hat. He simply stepped straight back away from the cudgel.

 ** _CRUNCH!_** The bat became embedded into the concrete floor.

Using _Zhīshì’s_ handle as a fulcrum point, she drew both feet to her chest and somersaulted over the anchored weapon. She kicked out as hard as she could at his chest. He quickly sidestepped her boots. Keeping a tight grip on the handle and using her momentum, Yang swiftly ripped _Zhīshì_ out of the ground and swung it straight at Rogue’s stomach. He fell to his knees and the baseball bat swept overhead. The tricorn was knocked off his crown.

Rogue sprang to his feet, daggers flashing in his hands. Ice and Fire thrust and slashed at Yang. She couldn’t bring _Zhīshì_ to bear in time. Ice stabbed straight at her face. She cocked her head to the side and the blue blade dug a gouge along her mask. Junior was likely going to be upset.

Fire was aimed at her chest, intent on slipping between her ribs. Letting go of _Zhīshì’s_ handle with one hand, she made a wild grab and managed to catch Fire in her palm. Its razor edges cut into her palm. Fresh blood coated the dagger. It felt as though she had stuck her hand into a nest of angry hornets. Rogue tried to withdraw Fire, but Yang squeezed tighter. She lifted one leg to hip level. Then she released Fire and kicked out simultaneously. Her boot struck Rogue squarely in the stomach and he was launched head-over-heels through the air. He fell out of sight, behind a stack of crates.

Ice cold agony exploded along Yang’s left leg. She dropped flat on the ground and grabbed her lower leg. A wide cut ran along the knee-high boot. Pulling apart the torn boot revealed a slash wound on her outer calf. The skin around the gash was frozen, with black blisters surrounding the damaged tissue. Apparently Rogue had tried to hamstring her with Ice, even as he was being kicked. It was bleeding slowly, the severed veins iced over.

Yang could scarcely move her left ankle. Bright red blood flowed down her palm and dripped from her fingertips. She could feel her diluted Aura struggling under the weight of her injuries. Sweat fell in her eyes and burned. Her breath hitched as though there were a knife in her ribs. Every inhale stabbed like a red hot poker.

Rogue emerged from behind the boxes. He was gripping his stomach, face contorted in pain. His hair was a mess and the garish clothes were crumpled. But that was about the worst of it. He wasn’t bleeding from multiple wounds, nor struggling to suck down a single lungful of air.

 _“I’m fighting for my life and losing.”_ She wheezed inwardly, _“So why am I grinning so hard?”_

Using _Zhīshì_ as a crutch, Yang struggled to her feet. Putting weight on her left leg felt like stepping into a bucket full of ice and broken glass. The pain poured into her soul and fanned the inferno of her fury. Golden flames licked down her mane.

 _“I can win this! But I need a plan, because what I’ve been doing so far ain’t workin’. The problem is that Zhīshì is too slow to hit him. I need to think of a way to speed up my attacks.”_ Her eyes widened in abrupt realization.

Yang held _Zhīshì_ loosely in one hand. With a flick of her wrist, she flipped the heavy baseball bat and caught it by the fat end. Then she pointed the handle at Rogue, her free hand hanging at her hip. She turned her body so that she faced sideways, with her right foot extended in front of her left. After a second of consideration, she withdrew her forward foot ever so slightly.

_“Alright, let’s see if we haven’t picked up anything from sparring with Weiss.”_

Rogue shook his head mockingly, “So you’re a fencer now?”

“ _En garde_ , bitch.” Yang retorted.

“How well do you think you can fence with that injured calf?” Froideur gestured to her back leg. There was blood dribbling down the boot.

“I tend _not_ to think these things through. It’s worked for me so far.”

If there was any talent that Yang could boast about, it was her gift at pushing people’s buttons. Apparently, a flippant attitude was one of Froideur’s buttons. His face became an expressionless mask. Without another word, he produced his weapons and charged straight at the dragoness.

Drawing _Zhīshì_ back to beside her ear, Yang braced herself for pain. The golden haired Huntress kicked off her rear foot and lunged forward with a thrust. Tears pricked in her eyes as she swallowed a scream. She left a bloody boot print on the floor behind her.

The force behind her thrust caught both combatants off guard. She had closed the distance between them in a split second. Rogue’s eyes widened. The handle plunged straight at his chest.

He sidestepped _Zhīshì_ at the last instant. Yang barreled past with the speed and grace of a locomotive. She dug her heels in the concrete and grinded to a halt. Quickly turning around, the dragoness faced her opponent and reprised her stance. The aristocrat was upon her in an instant.

Ice and Fire danced in Rogue’s hands, the Dust blades stabbing and slashing faster than ever before. Their razor edges _hissed_ as they rent the air apart. To the untrained eye, they were untraceable red and blue blurs. But Yang _has been training_ , and with another Huntress who also dual-wielded a pair of weapons. Being able to keep track of two simultaneous blades was a requirement for fighting Blake.

With the bulk of _Zhīshì’s_ weight resting in her palm, Yang could swing and poke much faster than before. He hacked and slashed at her body, but the blonde was having no trouble defending herself from his onslaught. Each of Rogue’s attacks was deflected with a flick of her wrist. Again and again, the bat’s handle caught the aristocrat’s wrist and turned aside his lethal strikes.

_“Looks like I’ve learned more than I expected. Now, to go on the offensive!”_

The metal handle shot out like a rapier straight at Rogue’s chest. He immediately fell back, out of Yang’s range. She lunged forward again, the handle tip whipping back and forth wildly. But the colorful aristocrat just kept dodging back and to the sides. No matter how fast she poked, he proved himself too nimble for the clumsy cudgel. Compared to Myrtenaster, _Zhīshì_ was as slow and inelegant as a tortoise.

Annoyance gnawed at her nerves like an army of fire ants. She slashed at Rogue’s feet, but he effortlessly evaded the attack by leaping straight up. _Zhīshì_ rapidly converted to its launcher form and Yang fired a rocket directly at her aerial opponent. The missile _shrieked_ as it rose up to meet him.

_“He can’t dodge in the air!”_

He didn’t need to. Rogue flipped in midair and extended his foot. As soon as the missile reached him, he kicked off the projectile and flew even further away. The rocket hurtled off-course and exploded against a far wall. Yang watched him gracefully cartwheel through the air and land with poise on his perfectly polished boots. Her jaw twitched as she grinded her teeth together.

Rogue extended his index finger toward Yang. Then he curled it toward himself with a come-hither motion.

 _“That bastard will regret taunting a dragon!”_ Fire flooded the blonde’s veins. Her weapon transformed back into a cudgel and she charged at him, the pain in her leg forgotten. He immediately turned and began to run away. No matter how hard she ran, she could only watch him get further and further away. A sense of _déjà vu_ washed over Yang. She halted the chase and let Rogue retreat a distance.

Gulping desperately for air, she forced herself to empty the heat from her veins.

 _“Okay! I am_ not _going to fall for that again. All I’m doing is tiring myself out. This is exactly what happened on the train. Just speeding up my attacks ain’t enough. I need to slow him down.”_ Turning her head, she scoured the battlefield in search of _anything_ that could turn the tide in her favor. There were many weapons littered around, firearms and melee weapons alike. Crimson eyes landed on a cold metal article lying on the ground. As soon as she saw what it was, a plan began to form in her mind.

Yang turned away and began to leisurely walk toward the object. She strolled at a casual pace, as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Her full hips swayed with every step. The dragoness slung the heavy bludgeon over her shoulder, keeping a loose grip on its handle.

It didn’t take long for Rogue to realize that Yang was no longer pursuing him. He stopped running and looked back. In the distance, he spied the blonde as she ambled with her back turned on him.

“What is the meaning of this?” the sumptuous patrician called out. “Have you given up already?”

Shouting back, “Well yeah! All you’re doing is running away! It’s no fun if the opponent is too much of a _pussy_ to fight back! Screw you guys, I’m going home.” She flippantly gave him the birdie while drifting away.

His nostrils flared; teeth clenched; a vein bulged in his temple; eyebrows gathered like a storm. Froideur tightened his grip on his weapons until his knuckles bleached. He bellowed, “You have insulted me for the last time!”

Yang could hear his footfalls growing louder and closer as he rushed straight at her exposed back. She closed her eyes and envisioned his distance by sound alone. Her grip around _Zhīshì’s_ handle tightened.

_“Closer…”_

Her heart hammered in her chest. If either Fire or Ice plunged into her body, she would die. Aura would have no say in the matter.

_“Closer…”_

He was almost on top of her. She could hear his ragged breathing. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to _move out of the way!_

_“Just a little bit closer…”_

She stealthily slipped one boot beneath the object at her feet. It rattled lightly.

Rogue lunged, the _hissing_ of his blades heralding his attack.

_“NOW!”_

Yang spun around as fast as she could and swung _Zhīshì_ singlehandedly. The heavy metal bat hurtled directly at his snakelike face.

Rogue leaped backwards and soared high in the air, away from the oncoming bludgeon. _Zhīshì_ didn’t even come close.

He crowed at the top of his lungs, “Did you _really_ believe that I would fall for such an obvious trap?!”

Yang kicked the object off the ground.

A cold metal chain slapped into her awaiting hand.

She swung the chain around and whipped it at the airborne aristocrat.

The chain’s great length bridged the distance and lashed around his ankle.

His mouth fell wide open.

Yang hollered, “Get over here!” as she yanked on her end of the chain.

Rogue halted in midflight and immediately nosedived straight into the ground. He landed on his back and the concrete _cracked_ beneath him. All of the air in his lungs expulsed from his open mouth. He wheezed as he struggled to inhale a single breath.

Yang was on top of him in an instant. She held _Zhīshì_ horizontally in front of her torso, at both ends.

Rogue rose up on shaky legs to face the oncoming Huntress. His twin weapons simultaneously plunged at her stomach.

She maneuvered her metal weapon to intercept the incoming daggers.

Ice and Fire met _Zhīshì_ head-on.

The Dust blades shattered upon contact. Broken shards clattered musically on the floor.

Froideur’s face became sheet white.

Yang took a wide stance and hauled the five-foot bludgeon backwards until it was behind her head. Her hips pivoted with the motion. She squeezed the handle with both hands until her knuckles became white. Golden flames poured from her crown and set the world ablaze.

Furious crimson eyes burned into fearful blue.

A deafening scream tore out of the burning dragoness as she swung _Zhīshì_ as hard as she could into Froideur’s stomach. The impact shook her arms.

His Aura flared and failed. The man crumpled around the circumference of the cudgel.

Yang completed her swing and the follow through sent Rogue tumbling toward the ceiling. He smashed through a skylight and continued his involuntary flight beneath the night sky.

She watched her opponent shrinking until he was a mere twinkle in the distance.

For a moment, Yang held perfectly still in her homerun pose. Then she dropped the baseball bat and let it _clang_ on the ground.

Turning her face skyward, she roared at the top of her lungs. The concrete at her feet splintered. Smoke and dust roiled around the Huntress. An inferno exploded and tongues of fire tasted the ceiling. Temperatures in the warehouse skyrocketed as Yang thundered her victory.

When the last echoes faded, she picked up _Zhīshì_ and used it as a crutch while she hobbled out of the warehouse. It was a painful odyssey, but Yang made it all the way to Bumblebee. She leaned against her beloved bike and inspected her calf. It was angry and red, but Aura had managed to stem the bleeding. There was nothing that seemed to indicate an infection.

Yang pulled out her scroll and dialed the last number. Junior didn’t make her wait. He answered immediately, “Did you take down the Iron Kings?”

Laughing cheerfully, “I sure did! I got a little bit more excitement than the last couple raids, so I’m turning in for the night.”

“Are you going to return my stuff?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah, sure.” Yang drawled, “But I’ll need some medical supplies before I return this stuff. I’m kinda cut up something fierce.”

“Really? Who did you fight?”

“Some popinjay by the name of Roger Feud or something.”

A moment of silence passed. Then he exclaimed, “Did you just fight Rogue Froideur?!”

“ _That_ was his name, yeah.”

“He’s one of the King’s highest ranking members! What happened?” Junior questioned.

Yang beamed, “He put up a pretty decent fight, but he was nothing compared to the dragoness from Patch. After a grueling duel, I knocked him into orbit! To my knowledge, he’s still traveling via Xiao Long Airlines.”

“…All drinks are on the house.”

Grinning from ear to ear, she closed her scroll and hopped onto Bumblebee.

By the time she rode back to _The Cub’s Club_ , the adrenaline rush had subsided and left Yang feeling every cut and bruise. She was wincing every other step as she entered through the back door. Junior and the Miltiades was waiting for her as she limped into his office. He held out his hand and gestured for _Zhīshì_.

Shaking her crown, “Oh no, Junior. I ain’t disarming myself until I have Ember Celica back on my hands. I’m not stupid enough to trust you that much.”

Sighing, Junior reached behind his desk and retrieved the golden shotgun-gauntlets. Once they were resting on Yang’s wrists, she returned his weapon and the mask. Junior stared at the damaged replica of the Reaper’s mask.

“I think,” he began sternly, “that I’m owed an explanation for why my stuff is getting broken. What exactly is your plan for catching the Reaper?”

“I disagree. I don’t owe you anything.” Yang snapped. “Don’t go losing that mask. I’m going to need it again tomorrow.”

“How many nights are you planning on keeping this up?” Hei Xiong demanded.

“However many it takes.” she declared.

Miltia held a first-aid kit in her hands. Yang picked up the box and tucked it beneath her arm. She returned alone to the wardrobe room, where her normal clothes were waiting for her, and changed out of her Reaper cosplay. Surprisingly, there weren’t quite as many bruises as she had expected.

_“I wonder if fear of the Reaper caused their attacks to weaken?”_

Years of fighting has granted Yang plenty of practice applying her own first-aid. After cleaning the cuts, she smeared medical gel to her injuries and wrapped her calf and hands in thick bandages. Once she was satisfied that she was no longer in danger of bleeding on her own clothes, she dressed up and strode out of the nightclub. She held a strawberry sunrise in her hand.

Beacon Academy was situated on top of a plateau overlooking the city of Vale. Yang stepped into an elevator and swiped her student ID over the scanner. Undoubtedly, the electronic system would register Yang as out-past-curfew. She could expect consequences in the morning. The lift began to rise up steadily, granting the blonde a gorgeous view of the city lights. But those violet eyes were unfocused.

_“Raven, you have been running away for my entire life. You’ve never contacted Uncle Qrow or Dad.”_

She strode off the elevator and entered Beacon’s grounds. Her boots clopped over the cobblestone path that led directly into the main hall. Yang passed the Hero’s Monument, briefly glancing around as though she expected her mother to be standing there. Nobody was waiting for her.

_“Somehow though, eleven years ago, you must have contacted Summer. Was that related to the mission that she left us for? Did you meet your old partner, your best friend?”_

Team RWBY’s dorm room opened noiselessly on oiled hinges. Yang peeked her head in and listened. She heard the sounds of soft breathing and snoring. Removing her boots, she snuck inside. Hand on the doorframe, the blonde gently eased the door closed behind her. She took one glance at the bathroom door and discovered a great big sign taped over the handle.

A warning, handwritten with a calligraphy pen, declared bossily, “NO BLONDES ALLOWED!”

The first warning was crossed off and beside it was Blake’s small but tidy note reading, “Weiss, you’re technically blonde.”

Beneath the first warning was another, equally embellished and authoritarian, which clarified that, “NO YANGS ALLOWED!”

In the corner was childish scribbles that read, “You got seven years of bad luck, sis.” It featured doodles of a yellow-haired stick figure punching a mirror. The effigy looked so angry with its frowny face and red eyes.

Guilt settled in Yang’s stomach as she remembered her explosion earlier. Turning from the bathroom, she knelt down to set her boots on the ground and looked straight into beady black eyes.

Zwei the corgi opened his mouth to bark.

Yang quickly hissed, “Zwei! Stealth mode activate!”

The foot-long dog recognized the order and snapped his mouth shut. She rubbed her dog behind the ears and then stood up.

After stripping off her skirt, socks, bandanna, and jacket, Yang was too exhausted to remove any more clothes. She set Ember Celica on the dresser and somehow made it into her upper bunk bed.

Once she had slipped beneath the covers, there was nothing left to do but wait for sleep. In the silence of the night, unwanted thoughts rose into the foreground.

_“How did the meeting go, between you and Summer? Were you happy to see her? Was she happy to see you? If everything went well, then how did Summer end up…”_

She sucked in a breath and choked back a sob.

_“Why are you still running?”_

Weiss once told Yang something, back when Blake had abandoned the team in their first semester.

She had said,

_“The innocent never run, Yang.”_


	22. Rising Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Yang to wake up and smell the consequences.

Yang woke up from a dreamless sleep and immediately regretted every decision in her life.

A stabbing pain in her calf confirmed that her Aura had not fully healed her injuries. Dull aches in her arms and shoulders served as a monument of her battle fatigue. Swinging  _Zhīshì_  all night had given Yang's muscles a workout she was still feeling. An incessant throbbing in her skull reminded her of all the strawberry sunrises she had consumed over the night. Mister Sandman's siren calls threatened to drag her back to sleep. She had not gotten to bed until the early hours in the day. For a moment, the drowsy blonde could not come up with a single good reason why she shouldn't simply stay in bed for the remainder of eternity.

Thankfully, Yang's darling little sister was kind enough to present one such reason in the form of a whistle being blown at the top of her lungs.

The high pitched screech completely shattered what little serenity that Yang had fabricated in the past few seconds.

Catapulting to a sitting position sent the dorm room spinning like a top. She slapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. The combination of pain, exhaustion, drowsiness, and headaches caused Yang's fuse to burn short.

"Holy shit, Ruby!  _I'm_   _not ready for this!"_  she exploded.

Silence fell.

Yang focused on steadying her breathing. Inhale to four. Hold for seven. Exhale to eight. Rinse and repeat. The pounding in her head began to gradually subside. Finally, amethysts opened and she turned to face the morning and all of its promises.

Standing on the opposite side of the room was Ruby, fidgeting with her fingers. She stared up at Yang with wide silver eyes and a worried expression. She stammered, "I'm sorry Yang, I—I didn't mean to upset you." Her chin dropped to her chest at the same time as Yang's heart dropped into her stomach.

Guilt wormed into her voice, "Oh geez, Ruby, I should be the one apologizing. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have blown up; I was… I'm just…" She grasped helplessly at the air, struggling to find the words.

Weiss was eloquent enough to provide the elusive syntax. She inserted crossly, "You were just being a thoughtless barbarian, as per the status quo?" With her lips pursed tightly and fair eyebrows knotted, the heiress was visibly outraged. She stepped between Ruby and Yang while glaring at Yang with cerulean daggers.

The accusation made Yang bristle, but she swallowed her spiteful retort and forced herself to nod in silent agreement. Morning had just begun and things were already starting off on the wrong foot. Arguing with Weiss would only agitate the situation. Accepting what she deserved was the shortest path to defusing the tension.

Apparently, Weiss was not done with her. She thrust a finger at Yang and ranted, "You have a lot of explaining to do, Xiao Long. Everyone was worried when you failed to make curfew. Ruby stayed up as late as she could, sitting by the door and waiting for you to return!" Her finger directed Yang's attention to a corner of the room, where there was a disheveled blanket and an empty milk box. "Blake finally had to  _throw_  your sister into bed when she fell asleep at eleven o' clock."

Ruby hastily insisted, "It was almost eleven-thirty!"

Heat flooded Yang's veins, "Oh c'mon! The curfew thing is  _bullshit!"_  She slammed her fist on her pillow. "General Ironwood has no reason for forcing everyone to go bed at such an early hour! He needs to lift it already! The city is safe now, so what's his beef?!"

 _Beacon isn't safe._  Raven's warning flitted across her mind, causing her to pause momentarily.

"Whether you agree with the General's curfew is inconsequential. He has been charged with keeping the populace safe, and he's doing the best job that he can." Weiss declared.

The pounding in Yang's skull returned with a vengeance. Weiss' penetrating voice was not helping matters. "Of course  _you_  agree, he's Atlesian just like you." Yang crossed her arms in front of her chest and scathed, "I bet you're  _all_  a bunch of rule-loving, goose-stepping drones with sticks up your—"

"Enough!" Ruby stepped between her partner and her sister. "No more fighting! We're all friends here, and friends don't fight when they can talk."

Silver met Cerulean. Cerulean softened and averted. Silver turned and locked with Amethyst. For a moment, Amethysts remained defiant. But beneath Silver's pleading gaze, she lost all resistance and melted into compliance.

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, Yang hopped off. As soon as her feet hit the floor, a sharp pain tore up her left calf. She sucked in a lungful of air and held it fast. On reflex, she shifted her weight off her calf. All eyes immediately landed on the blonde's bandaged limb. Blood had soaked into the wrappings and dried, turning brown and crusty.

Ruby gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth. Weiss' eyes widened slightly.

"Yang!" Ruby bleated. "How did you get hurt so badly?"

Weiss commanded, "Tell us what happened!"

Mind rushing to come up with a likely story, Yang stumbled out, "Uh… I accidentally stepped on some… err…" Eyes landed on the bathroom. Exclaiming loudly, "I cut my foot on some broken glass after I punched the mirror!" She slapped the back of her head and laughed.

A cool voice came from directly beside the blonde. Yang hadn't even detected Blake's faint presence until she spoke. "You smell like Downtown Vale, smoke, blood, and Dustpowder. You were fighting last night, weren't you?"

Resentment smoldered within the dragoness. Inwardly,  _"Sometimes I hate your keen faunus senses."_

Caught in her lie, Yang chose to remain silent. Instead she knelt down and started to remove the dressings off her left leg. The blood-soaked bandages were stuck to the wound. She gritted her teeth and tore it all away in a single motion. A white hot scream boiled in her throat. Her entire face burned lobster red.

Beneath the gauze was a thin white line that started from halfway up her calf and ended down to her ankle. The scar tissue was scarcely noticeable on her pale leg.

Pointing at the mark, Yang hotly explained, "See? It's just a scratch, not a big deal. I got in a small scuffle with some guys in an alleyway. One of them happened to get a lucky shot." Rising to her feet, "I took a little too long getting this  _tiny_  cut wrapped up. That's why I was late."

Blake held up her scroll and showed Yang the team's collective Aura gauges. "Your Aura is far below one-hundred percent. I've seen you get punched in the face by an Atlesian Paladin and get right back up. How small was this 'scuffle' of yours?"

The other two girls were closing in on Yang, boxing her in. She felt like a rat trapped in a corner. Anger flared within and she struggled to keep a lid on her rising Semblance. There was no way she would ignite with Ruby in such close proximity.

"Would you all just  _back off?"_  she growled. "I'm not  _that_  hurt and it's none of your  _damn_  business!"

"This is  _most certainly_  our business!" Weiss argued shrilly. "We've already gone over this with Blake. When something is wrong, then the whole team deserves to know! Nobody can help you if you don't explain the issue!"

Balling her hands into fists, Yang hissed through clenched teeth. "I don't want your help. I need to do this  _by myself!"_

Blake lifted her foot and lightly tapped Yang's calf.

The blonde's eyes snapped wide open and she sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. She slapped a hand on the bunk bed to balance herself and shouted, "What the hell was that for?!"

"Doing this by yourself, whatever 'this' is, has gotten you hurt." Amber eyes narrowed, "If you think that we're just going to stand by and watch you get hurt again, then you need a reality check!"

Her voice softened, "If any of  _us_  walked in the room with an injury like that, then you would never let her leave. You would hold her down until she spilled the beans. Then you would  _refuse to rest_  until the problem had been solved!"

Crimson flashed briefly across Yang's eyes. "The difference is that  _I'm strong enough to hold you down!"_  She stabbed a thumb into her chest.

Weiss glared, "So you think we're not strong enough to immobilize you?"

"I'd like to see you try!" The dragoness snarled.

Blake turned to Ruby and implored, "Please talk some sense into your sister. Maybe she'll listen to you?"

The red-cloaked girl was rapidly glancing between friends and family with fearful eyes. Her shoulders were hunkered and she wrung her hands hard enough to ignite a spark.

"Yang," she begged, "you've been acting very strangely recently and you've got us  _all_  extremely worried. Blake wanted to take off into the night to try and hunt you down."

Blake added, "Curfew only matters if you get caught, and they wouldn't have caught me."

"We all know something's wrong and it's eating you up. You're getting angrier and angrier, and if you don't let us help then you might get hurt even worse! I don't know if I could bear it if you got hurt badly while I could have saved you."

Yang couldn't look Ruby in the eyes. She turned her face away.

"I've always gone to you for help and advice. So please tell me, what do I need to say in order to  _get you to listen?"_

When no answer was forthcoming, her chin dropped to her chest.

"I just want my sister back."

The tremble in Ruby's voice made Yang's heart ache. Ice cold guilt doused her rising temper.

"Ruby," she whispered slowly, "I'm so,  _so sorry_  that I'm putting you through this. But it's  _you,_  above everyone else, that I refuse to let become involved."

"Why? What does this have to do with me?" Silver eyes were filled with confusion.

Thankfully, Yang did not have to immediately answer that question. A sharp  _knocking_  came from the door. Four pairs of eyes simultaneously turned to face the door. Recognizing the opportunity, Yang lunged through the space between Weiss and Blake. They were nearly toppled in her desperate charge.

Grasping the handle, she threw open the door to invite inside the person who had just rescued her from the torturous interrogation.

Standing beyond the doorframe was none other than Glynda Goodwitch. The scholarly woman held a scroll tablet in her hands, slender fingers dancing along its surface. Stony peridot eyes met amethysts.

Her heart plunged into a cavernous abyss that it would never escape. Trepidation coiled in her stomach like a snake. Beneath the professor's cold eyes, Yang shrank like wet wool. All it took was for a single stare and the young woman regressed to a pigtailed girl being scolded for acting out again.

Glynda spoke firmly, "Miss Xiao Long, just the person I wanted to see." Her tone put a lie to her sentence. "I am stepping inside."

Yang back peddled and allowed entrance. When the door closed behind her, Glynda tapped on her tablet and brought up an incident report. The transparent screen gave Yang a clear view of the picture on the report. It was a photo of Yang sneaking into Beacon, just hours ago.

The older Huntress cleared her throat before speaking. "Last night, or rather this morning, you returned to Beacon Academy  _long_  past curfew."

Stammering, Yang tried to argue. "The—the curfew is bull—baloney! General Ironwood knows the city is Grimm free, so why hasn't he lifted the stupid thing already? You agree with me, right?" She held her hands out like a desperate beggar.

Erudite fingers adjusted narrow glasses. "Whether or not I agree with James is inconsequential. He is in charge of the capital's safety, so his word is law. You have broken the law, Miss Xiao Long."

Her words pierced through Yang like a poison-tipped arrowhead. Lilac eyes were downcast and her chin dropped to her chest. Fraught hands fell lifeless to her sides. She remained silent.

Glynda continued, "On top of breaking curfew, you also failed to attend even a single class yesterday. Here in Beacon Academy, we expect our students to take their grades seriously. You are training to be the future protectors of the world. Slacking does not inspire confidence, Miss Xiao Long."

Harsh words crashed upon the brawler. She remained rooted in place, staring at the floor.

"These are not light transgressions. It is up to  _me_  on what your punishment should be."

Yang was as still as a statue. Her hands slowly squeezed into tight balls. Golden strands were glimmering in the light of the rising sun.

"Yang Xiao Long, you are hereby suspended for the remainder of the day."

A moment passed and the boxer simply stood in place. Her face was as impassive as a mask. Clenched fists were trembling.

"I must warn you that missing curfew one more time will result with you being suspended for the remainder of the Vytal Festival."

Ruby gasped, "But if Yang is suspended, then Team RWBY won't be able to enter the tournament!"

Peridot eyes met pure silver. "Miss Rose, you are the team leader. It is your responsibility to see that your teammates attend class. This incident reflects upon your capabilities as a leader. If you fail to keep your subordinates in line, then missing the tournament is the least of your concerns."

Yang's entire body tensed as Glynda reprimanded her little sister. The temperature in the room was beginning to climb. Weiss and Blake shared anxious glances. Surely Yang wouldn't…?

"Do you," Glynda returned to Yang, "have any comments you would like to add?"

For a full second, Team RWB was frozen in place. Nobody dared to breathe.

Finally, Yang exhaled hot air from her lungs and released her shaking fists. She had been squeezing her hands so tightly that she left visible nail marks in her palms. Her golden crown rose up and she spoke with a machinelike voice, "I do not have any comments. I accept my punishment."

Glynda nodded and stated, "Good to hear. Now if you'll excuse me, I must have this same conversation with Miss Adel."

She pivoted on her high heels and marched out of the dorm.

Without hesitation, the blonde spun around and stomped over to her dresser. She nearly wrenched the drawers out as she removed a clean canary yellow shirt and brown skirt. Her breathing was ragged as she gathered up the garments in her arms and stormed into bathroom. The door slammed behind her and the "NO YANGS ALLOWED" sign fell to the floor.

In no time at all, Yang remerged fully dressed. She locomoted to her brown leather jacket and violently threw it over her body. Her feet slammed into her boots and the seething pugilist started to tie the strings.

The rest of the team watched Yang with an uneasy atmosphere hanging over their heads. Ruby tiptoed to her sister and gulped, "Yang—"

"Well!" Yang interrupted, "It's a  _good thing_  that I wasn't already dressed for class! Glynda just saved me the  _fucking_  trouble!"

The knots were sloppy, but she didn't seem to care. Yang clomped her boots as she lumbered out of the dorm room. The moment she turned the corner and disappeared from view, Ruby leaped into action and chased her through the door.

She called out, "Yang! Where are you going?"

While still storming away from the red-cloaked girl, Yang shouted back, "To find something to  _punch out!"_

Watching her sister retreat out of earshot, Ruby whispered, "But… the gym is in the opposite direction."

The elfin girl meandered back into their room. Silver eyes were glued to the floor and her shoulders drooped low. She sighed miserably, "What is going on? Why is this happening?"

Weiss strode up to Ruby and put her hand on her partner's shoulder. "Those aren't questions we can answer. The only person who knows is Yang herself, so you  _should be_  asking her."

"But," Ruby complained, "she's not listening to me! I—I—I don't know what to do! I've never seen her like this, all explode-y and stuff!"

Sliding up beside the distressed damsel, Blake spoke coolly, "You said that the tried and true method for dealing with an angry Yang was to give her time to cool down. But that hasn't been working, she's getting madder all the time. Maybe we should consider more extreme options."

"I don't want to do anything that could hurt my sister! We just need to figure out what's causing her to act this way."

Weiss argued, "It doesn't matter what's causing Yang to be angry, it is inexcusable to throw a temper tantrum at her age. Professor Goodwitch is right, you need to be able to rein in unruly subordinates. She may be your older sister, but you are team leader and you shouldn't be letting her get away with bad behavior."

She stomped the floor with her high-heeled boot and declared loudly, "You need to put your foot down and demand that she apologizes! You need to assert your authority and stop being such an _enabler_  for your sister!"

Giving the heiress an uncertain glance, Ruby questioned, "So I need to be just as cold-hearted as you?"

Weiss put her hands on her hips and affirmed, "Yes! Bring out your inner corporate manager! Emotions are not going to reach someone as hardheaded as Yang Xiao Long. But if you give her an ultimatum, then she will have no choice but to follow your orders. You need to set aside your feelings and lay down the law."

Sterling silver eyes found her feet, "I'm not sure I'm capable of being unfeeling…"

"Well then," the white-clad Huntress stabbed a thumb into her chest, "I guess I'm just going to have to help you. We need to come up with a plan of action. All you need to do is trust that this is for Yang's own good. We can't let her get hurt again, am I right?"

Ruby's chin rose up and she met Weiss' stare. There was hard platinum glowing in her eyes. She nodded her black cherry crown in confirmation. "Alright. We do this for Yang's sake."

"Before we do anything," Blake interjected, "we need to get ready for class. We all know how fast they fill up with all these foreign students attending."

All three girls quickly agreed and began to get dressed in their school uniforms. Ruby set her jaw firmly, fully prepared to  _force_  Yang into confessing her troubles.

" _The most important person in my life is suffering. But we will help her whether she wants it or not."_


	23. Requiescant in Pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The history of the Great War

"Today in class, we're going to go over the Great War."

Doctor Oobleck was a very tall and slender man with an unruly head of forest green hair. He wore circular thick-rimmed glasses and a canary yellow necktie. His white dress shirt was baggy on his sinewy figure and he required a belt to keep his charcoal grey slacks up.

He paused and sipped on his thermos. Astonishingly blue eyes stared at his classroom. It was positively filled with students, natives and foreigners in equal measure. Hunters-in-training from all over the globe, sitting shoulder to shoulder behind wooden lecture desks. Every available seat was taken, which meant that a handful of latecomers were forced to sit on the stairs. There were so many students crammed in the room that the history teacher had opted to forgo attendance.

Ruby found herself paying little attention to class. She was trying to come up with a plan of what to do the next time she saw Yang. Physical confrontation was out of the question. It wasn't like she was afraid that Yang would hurt someone. But outright fighting was a last ditch resort. She still trusted that Yang was not beyond reason.

Turning her head to the left, Ruby spied Blake. The feline faunus was looking in the direction of the lecture, but her amber eyes were out of focus. It seemed as though Ruby was not the only one distracted. She craned her neck and tried to spy on what all of her friends were doing.

Team RWB were seated on the tier directly below Team JNPR. In what was becoming a noticeable trend, Jaune and Pyrrha were sitting rather close together. Their hands were hidden behind the desks. Pyrrha's cheeks were rose red.

" _Susp-i-cious!"_  Ruby mused to herself.

Additionally, Neptune Vasilias had also chosen to attend History class. The cobalt-crowned lady-killer from Haven was sitting directly beside Weiss Schnee. They traded coy glances and flirtatious whispers, followed by soft laughter. Ruby gagged at the sight, then returned her attention to the lecture in progress.

"It only seems appropriate," Doctor Oobleck explained, "considering that we are preparing for the Vytal Festival, which celebrates the end of the Great War."

Doctor Oobleck began to pace speedily in front of his audience. Words shot from his lips as though they were fired from a fully automatic rifle with the trigger permanently depressed. He only paused to drink from his thermos. Many people have surmised that coffee may not be the only contents of his favorite beverage.

Ruby's head was aching as though it were being simultaneously stretched and crushed. All she wanted was to look out the window and let her thoughts carry her into the bright blue sky. The young girl's mind was as vaporous as a cirrus cloud, but she was strenuously forcing it into a solid shape. With enormous effort, she resisted the urge to daydream and focused on Oobleck's speech.

"In the Age before modern times, there were not kingdoms. Rather, there was a single super-kingdom." Can anyone tell me the name of this super-kingdom?"

Weiss raised her hand and answered, "The ancient kingdom was called Camelot."

"That's correct!" He declared, "Camelot was the largest kingdom in recorded history, with conquered lands stretching across three continents."

Neptune smirked attractively at the snow-capped Huntress. "Beauty  _and_  brains, you've got it all."

A delicate blush bloomed upon Weiss' cheeks. Ruby resisted the temptation to stick her finger down her throat.

Turning to the large board on the wall behind him, Oobleck gestured toward an ancient map of Remnant. It represented the three major civilized continents of Sanus, Solitas, and Anima. But instead of the four kingdoms of Vale, Vacuo, Mantle, and Mistral, there was just one enormous dominion.

"All of the civilized landmasses were united beneath a single banner."

A humongous holographic screen appeared up in the air. Upon the display was a magnificent family crest with a two legged dragon proudly spreading its broad wings.

"Camelot was reigned by a single ruler, King Arthur Pendragon."

Silver eyes snapped wide in surprised recognition. Ruby lifted her chin from her palm and blurted, "I know about him!" Unimpeded by the stares she was attracting, the young girl divulged, "I grew up on stories about his adventures! I  _loved_  reading tales about the heroes and epic adventures that they embarked upon!"

She gushed on, "The Knights of the Round Table versus a Grimm hoard! The epic duel between King Arthur and the Black Knight!"

The young girl practically yelled, "Morgan le Fay and her zombie army!"

"Wait, what was that last one?" Weiss sounded incredulous.

Ruby repeated, "I said Morgan le Fay's zombie army."

"That's stupid!" The heiress snapped, "Morgan le Fay did not command an army of zombies. There's no such thing as zombies! She used a mysterious type of Dust to hypnotize whole towns full of people and bring them under her control. They weren't 'undead'; they were brainwashed, living people."

Crossing her arms, Ruby harrumphed, "I think that zombies are cooler."

Oobleck brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat loudly. "It's true that King Arthur had many journeys, although the details have been lost. Historians struggle to filter fairytale and fiction when it comes to Ages before the Great War. The historical basis of those stories are… rather shaky to say the least."

Ruby stood up and enthused, "My favorite part was where King Arthur received Excalibur from the legendary wizard Merlin. And then he used it while leading his army to greatness! Arthur went on to establish the Kingdom of Camelot and everyone lived happily ever after!"

She sat down with a nostalgic smile on her face.

Adjusting his thick glasses, "As much as I appreciate the passion you have brought to this class, I'm afraid I must inform you that the real world progressed beyond the fairytale ending."

"Wait, what happened after King Arthur made Camelot?" she asked uncertainly.

A contrite expression in his face, Oobleck elucidated delicately, "Once King Arthur finished uniting all of the lands beneath his crown, he went on to create an Age of unprecedented oppression."

Ruby cried out shrilly, "What?!"

Weiss winced as the shriek punched through her eardrums. Scowling, "Ruby, have you never opened a history book?"

"I subscribe to Weapons Weekly, not Historical History stuff."

Weiss exclaimed in disbelief, "You not knowing who started the Great War is as stupid as someone getting into Beacon Academy without knowing what Aura is!"

Ruby and Jaune sank in their seats. Pyrrha reassuringly rubbed the blonde boy's shoulder.

Oobleck continued his lecture, "King Arthur's greatest desire was to purge all of the Grimm from his kingdom. He waged a tremendous and expensive war against the creatures of Grimm that has come to be known as the Second Crusade."

He threw his hands into the air, "The sheer amount of resources he spent on his global army  _was staggering!"_

Letting his hands drop to his sides, the professor said, "The King hoarded all of the processed Dust in the world, not sharing a bit of it with the people. Every ounce was used to create weapons and technology for his army."

On the projected holographic screen appeared photographs of soldiers. Ruby leaned in and studied the weapons and equipment used by the knights of Camelot. They wore full suits of steel plate armor and closed helmets with long crimson plumes. In one hand they held heavy square shields with metal thick enough to halt a charging Boarbatusk. She wondered how they were even able to move under all that armor. The other hand wielded an assault rifle with double drum magazines. Hanging from their hips were longswords.

It was clear to Ruby that this was long before engineers had invented means of combining melee and long ranged weapons. How useless! Carrying two separate weapons just meant unnecessary weight. Not to mention that giving every soldier the exact same weapon was utterly  _boring!_  There was no creativity at all! Even Jaune's family heirloom was more imaginative than anything that the knights wielded.

As Oobleck gave his sermon, the images on the screen shifted from steel-clad knights to war vehicles. They ranged from battle tanks with caterpillar treads to armored helicopters carrying missile pods to tall artillery batteries firing high-yield explosives. Compared to modern day Atlesian Paladins and VTOL Bullheads, the ancient day vehicles were slow and clunky.

"In addition, he forcefully conscripted a  _vast population_  of able bodied men and women into his enormous military." Oobleck spread his arms as far apart as possible to illustrate the sheer size. "The King constructed a titanic war machine  _a million soldiers strong!"_

"This war machine required  _relentless_  amounts of resources to stay in operation. Food and supplies, along with Dust, were constantly transported to the borders, where the majority of the armed forces held the line against endless hordes of Grimm."

Again, the theme of the pictures moved. Weapons of war gave way to laboratories with scientists wearing lab coats. Bespectacled researchers stood around shelves filled with tubes and beakers. Human and faunus corpses were cut open and dissected upon steel tables. Ruby averted her eyes from the gruesome images.

"King Arthur was a firm believer in science and under his reign technology advanced swiftly. Rudimentary computers and long-ranged radio devices were invented for the purpose of instant communication. Moreover, he decreed that doctors should study the human body to create cutting-edge medical procedures. Whole schools of researchers were dedicated to progressing our understanding of human biology."

Ruby watched as more pictures flashed across the screen, even as the doctor was speaking.

"With all of the brightest minds in the world beneath his thumb, Camelot's armies became armed with more and more powerful weapons and technology."

She saw a slideshow of a mindboggling military standing its ground against stampeding Grimm; of knights unloading their heavy weapons into throngs of monsters; of artillery fire bombarding flattening forests and annihilating infestations within; of men and women celebrating yet another victory against the forces of entropy. It was a display of power that took Ruby's breath away.

Oobleck's tone darkened, "Unfortunately, this technology came at a high cost."

When the next set of photographs appeared, Ruby almost fell out of her seat. It was like a completely different world. She saw a cityscape with heavy clouds of pollution hanging just above tall smoke stacks. There were rivers clogged with toxic sludge. Close-up pictures of men and women revealed a shocking contrast. Dirt and filth greased across their clothes. Faces gaunt with hunger. Eyes devoid of hope.

"As a result of King Arthur's monumental military actions, the quality of life of the average citizen suffered miserably. Life expectancy in those days was approximately thirty-five years old."

Nora spoke up with a peppy voice, "Wow! Middle aged at seventeen years old! Suddenly, I feel like buying an expensive car!"

Ruby put her face on her desk and groaned, "Once again, history ruins childhoods…"

"Well," Oobleck sounded somewhat miffed, "I'm sorry that King Arthur's reign did not live up to your expectations."

Pictures of churches with boards over the doors and windows. Empty school buildings with grass growing through cracks in the floors. Playgrounds overgrown with vines.

He continued, "Over the decades, King Arthur slowly but steadily became more obsessed with his crusade. He seemed to believe that it was possible to create a world entirely free from Grimm. As time passed, he pushed for a more efficient war machine by stripping away citizens' civil rights one by one. More people were sent into Dust mines for longer stretches of time. The King subjugated his entire low-class population to increasingly draconian laws. He believed that things such as education, recreation, and religion were wasteful distractions, and moved to forbid everything that could possibly take peoples' time away from work."

There were images depicting the working conditions inside factories. Ruby could scarcely believe her silver eyes. Boiling steam filling the air and open furnaces spat white-hot sparks. Heavy machinery with moving parts operated next to perspiration soaked workers. Just how high were the death rates in these sweatshops?

"Furthermore, the King decreed that there would be a single common language. Speaking anything besides the common tongue was met with corporal punishment. If you did not adhere to the  _lingua franca_  you were severely beaten, no matter how old or how young you were. Hundreds of languages and dialects were lost to the King's reign. Even today, only a small fraction of the population is bilingual."

How could someone pass on oral traditions to their children if they were not allowed to speak their native tongue? Cultural stories would be lost forever if nobody could speak the language. How many ancient songs were stamped out by King Arthur?

Ruby has heard her father say short phrases that she did not understand. When she asked Taiyang what he was saying, he would tell her, "I don't know. It was just something my dad would tell say sometimes. I don't know if even  _he_  knew the meaning of these words."

"Taxes were raising higher and higher. Farmers were forced to grow larger fields of crops for less compensation. Spending whole days inside a mine, without seeing the light of day, was very common. Tragically, even young children were made to labor; their small fingers could work inside moving machinery far easier than adults. All to provide resources for the King's war machine. Dissent was growing rapidly between the King and his subjects. The entire Kingdom of Camelot was becoming a gigantic powder keg, just waiting for one last spark."

One picture came up and Ruby suddenly sucked in a sharp gasp. It was a photograph of a little boy, clutching a hand with only his thumb remaining.  _"What happened to the kind and loving king from my favorite bedtime stories?"_  she thought bitterly.

"That spark came when the King finally decreed that all expressions of individuality were to be destroyed. Paintings, crafts, and everything related to the arts was thrown into burning piles. Books were burned more than anything else. History books, story books, books on poetry. Towers of fire could be seen across the countryside."

Flames engulfed towering mountains of artwork. Stacks of books were doused in gasoline and lit ablaze. Museums and libraries were emptied out and their contents destroyed. Ruby stared at the pictures of such scenes, shaking her cherry tipped head. How much history was lost in those fires, how many cultures?

"The people were not the only ones who were becoming angry at the King's regime."

Oobleck strode in broad loops in front of the class. He was so engrossed in his own lecture that he had forgotten to drink his coffee for several minutes.

"Merlin the Great had been seeking to persuade Arthur against his crusade. But when the Mad King made individuality a treasonous crime, Merlin became so outraged that he pledged to destroy Camelot. King Arthur attempted to have Merlin killed, but the eldest wizard used his magic powers and disappeared from the King's court."

Jaune raised his hand and called, "I'm sorry Professor—"

"Doctor."

Stammering, "I—I—I mean, Doctor Oobleck, but I'm getting a little confused by something." He scratched his head, "What exactly did you mean by magic powers? Magic isn't real, is it?"

He grimaced in embarrassment.

On the other hand, Oobleck smiled broadly and exclaimed, "That's an excellent question, Mr. Arc!"

Surprise lit up the blonde squire's face.

Oobleck's pacing became faster as he provided ancient context, "You see, 'magic' is a term for scarcely understood phenomena. Wizards and witches were people who could wield mysterious arcane powers. Back in the days before the Great War, the vast majority of people did not know the facts about Aura and Semblances. Long ago, Aura was known as 'mana'; Semblances were called 'sorcery'; and wielding Dust in its purest forms were considered 'spells'. In the eyes of the people, anyone who could perform supernatural deeds was considered magical. Practitioners of the mystic arts were often far removed from civilization and lived in reclusive communities. There, they studied Aura and Semblances and hoarded the knowledge for themselves."

"So," Jaune asked slowly, "most everyone didn't even know that Aura and Semblances were real things that anyone could be trained to use?"

"Precisely!" The green haired scholar thrust his finger to the ceiling. "King Arthur was a strong proponent of science. He believed that magic was too mysterious and unpredictable to be useful in a uniform army. The mechanics behind Aura and Semblances were completely unknown back then. Merlin was his only source of mystical council. It is said that Merlin unlocked the King's Aura, which would account for many of the stories where Arthur survived seemingly lethal attacks. But Arthur never learned how to wield magic like wizards do, and instead dedicated his efforts to advancing science and technology."

He cleared his throat. "Thank you for the question. Now where was I?"

The holographic screen displayed more pictures. A wide diversity of faces soaked in sweat and caked in mud, were twisted with hate. Crowds of protestors filled the streets. In their hands were classic weapons, such as longswords and longbows, maces and battleaxes, kite shields and square shields. Ruby spotted pitchforks and harvesting scythes in the mix.

Sucking down a deep breath, Oobleck began to speak without stopping. "Revolts were exploding around the Kingdom of Camelot. Farmers, miners, blacksmiths, and other members of the working class were rising up and started fighting against King Arthur's armies. The Revolutionaries were fueled by their collective anger at their life conditions and their grief at the loss of their cultures.

However, there was a massive power difference between Camelot's army and the Revolutionary army. The Revolutionaries were armed with mere medieval weaponry. They did not have access to radio communications and Dust powered arsenals. Very few of them had even held a sword before. Without a central leader, they remained completely disorganized."

Another set of images showed the same crowds of dissenters. But now they were surrounded by knights of Camelot.

"On the other hand, Camelot's soldiers were very highly trained and armed with advanced weaponry, such as firearms that shot Dust bullets and vehicles of war. The King ensured that his battalions were well organized and performed at peak potential. They had the edge in every single aspect.

As a result, every pocket of rebellion was completely destroyed as soon as they attempted to rise. There was absolutely no victory for the Revolutionary army."

Streets filled with the bullet-riddled bodies of rebels. Rainwater and blood flooded the gutters. There was not a single rebel left alive. How could anyone even hope to fight against heavily armored gunmen with mere swords and pitchforks?

Doctor Oobleck walked to a tall cabinet and opened it. He pulled out a table stand on wheels. On top of the table was a very peculiar machine. It was a large cube-shaped box with a glass screen. Next to the screen were two circular dials with numbers around their circumference. Sitting on a shelf beneath the cube was a rectangular box, but flatter. It had a flap panel and a bunch of buttons, plus cables that reached up into the back of the big cube. Oobleck quickly reached into the cabinet and fished out an even smaller box, which was black and had two white circles on the back.

Nora stabbed a finger at the contraptions and yelled, "What the heck are those?"

Patting his hand on the big cube, Oobleck smiled proudly, "Why, this is a cathode ray tube television set from the time of the Great War!"

The entire class exploded with a chorus of "What?!" and "That's a TV?!" and "That's incredible!" and "Why didn't they use hard-light holographic screens?"

He gestured to the smaller rectangle, "And this is a videocassette recorder, which plays video home system cassettes. They used to record audio and video on magnetic strips stored in these black boxes."

Even more exclaims of disbelief filled the air. The screened cube and flat box were rolled out in the middle of the room and turned to face the audience.

"What I'm going to show you is a recording from a hundred years ago! I want you to appreciate just how monumental this is. VHS tapes may only keep their recordings from anywhere to five to twenty years. This medium has died out long ago, but historians still rerecord these same tapes over and over in order to keep them alive. They keep the tapes in circulation so that others may see them in their original format."

Oobleck inserted the tape into the player and turned the television on. Several seconds passed as the ancient machines began struggling back to life. Ruby started to slink beneath her desk just in case either of those things exploded.

"Now, this is a recording from the Battle on Vytal Island. Despite suffering nothing but crushing defeats, the Revolution was still fighting. Vytal Island is where the largest number of Revolutionaries had congregated. They occupied a village known as Peace, they were attempting to establish themselves into a proper organization. However, King Arthur knew about this gathering and sent a battalion of his finest soldiers to crush the entire village."

Finally, an image faded into view on the screen. It was very poor resolution. Ruby had to squint to make out the fuzzy 360p picture.

It depicted a huge army of a thousand soldiers standing in rank and file formation. Sunlight reflected off their metal suits of armor. The crest of Camelot was embellished on the shields and across huge flags that furled and snapped in the sea breeze. Knights on the front lines wielded assault rifles with underslung grenade launchers, their crosshairs on a humble village nestled in the hills.

"The battalion outnumbered the entire village. There were perhaps only two hundred Revolutionaries within. With the sheer difference in technology, training, and weaponry, Camelot might only have needed to send twenty soldiers to eliminate the threat. But King Arthur wanted to make an example of Peace and sent  _fifty times as many knights as he needed_. This recording was intended to be used as anti-rebellion propaganda. The message was clear, there was absolutely  _no hope_  for the Revolution."

Onscreen, the army began to charge through the hills. Whoever was holding the camera was riding alongside on a four-wheeler. The lens panned around to capture as many of the knights as possible. It was an awe-inspiring sight. Ruby silently wondered if the battle would even last an hour.

As the mass of knights crested the last hill, something in the distance came into view. It appeared to be a single person standing between the army of Camelot and the village of Peace. The camera zoomed in on the figure.

It was a tall man with humble stygian and jade robes. Tousled silvery hair crowned his head, along with a beard that reached to his knees. In his right hand was a simple staff made from knobbed wood.

Ruby wondered aloud, "Who is that?"

Oobleck answered, "That would be the legendary wizard, Merlin."

Her jaw dropped and eyes snapped wide open. Ruby nearly vaulted over her desk in an effort to get a better look. Blake and Weiss put their hands on her shoulders to keep her seated.

Merlin was the only thing between the attacking army and the defenseless village. Seemingly heedless of the impending assault, the ancient wizard began to stroll straight forward.

Silver eyes were enraptured by the events unfolding onscreen.

Camelot's battalion of knights were nearly on top of him.

Ruby unintentionally scooched to the edge of her seat.

He halted as the stampede of soldiers closed in.

The red cloaked girl tilted her body forward.

Merlin raised his staff toward the heavens.

Excitement pumped through her heart.

A clockwork sign formed above him.

She unconsciously held her breath.

The staff plunged straight down.

Without warning, searing white light illuminated the entire classroom. Ruby instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. They burned slightly, as though she had just looked directly at the sun. She rubbed her aching orbs with balled fists. Loud gasps filled the air. Silver eyes opened and looked at the screen. Her gasp joined them.

Every single knight was lying on the ground and dead. The only motion were the banners flapping in the wind and the clouds in the sky. There was no sound.

"Holy crap!" Nora stood up and cried out, "What just happened?!"

The good doctor replied, "That would be Merlin's Semblance. It is described as a widespread burst of holy energy that destroys all of his enemies and spares all of his allies. The village was completely unharmed."

Plopping down in her seat, Nora admired, "Merlin is  _overpowered_." She smirked impishly, "They need to fix that in the next patch. Nerf now please."

Then the camera began to move. It was lifted up and turned. A man's face filled the screen. Drained brown eyes stared sadly into the lenses.

When Merlin spoke, his voice was strangely familiar. "Arthur, you are my mistake, one of countless. I set you on this path, and for that I am  _deeply_  sorry." He sounded more than exhausted. He sounded world-weary.

"But it is your feet that have walked to this conclusion, and that is  _not_  my fault. Camelot has become corrupted, and it is my duty as its forefather to bring it down. Your reign will come to an end."

A somnolent sigh slipped from his lips. "I declare this to be the Third Crusade."

The recording ended and the videocassette was automatically ejected.

Oobleck retrieved the tape and began returning the TV and VCR back to their cabinet. "Merlin singlehandedly saved the village of Peace. He became the leader of the Revolution and lead them away from the rest of the world to train in secret. He broke the Wizarding Laws that he had written by revealing the ways of magic. All two hundred Revolutionaries were taught about Aura and Semblances, as well as how to fight properly with their simple weapons."

The gravity of his next sentence resonated with the entire class.

"They became the first generation of Hunters, with Merlin as the original."

He took a long draught from his thermos.

"When the Hunters rejoined the Revolution, they swept the frontlines like a storm. All of the sudden, the knights of Camelot were fighting soldiers who were bulletproof and could cast completely unpredictable sorcery. Aura and Semblances had never been observed on a scale like this before. Even though the Hunters still wielded medieval weaponry, Camelot's Dust advantage was no longer unsurmountable."

Photographs of a battlefield filled the air. Ruby could feel her heartbeat quicken. Knights of Camelot, numbering in the thousands, were falling before a very miniscule platoon of Hunters. The contrast between the knights and the Hunters was shocking. Whereas every individual knight was indistinguishable from the next, all of the Hunters were swathed in an assortment of vibrant colors and hues. One side was uniformly gunmetal grey. The other was painted in all the colors of the rainbow.

It was increasingly clear why people had started naming their children after colors.

"The Battle of the Rainbow was a fully one-sided massacre. Each and every single Huntsman and Huntress survived the first true clash of the Third Crusade."

Jaune reached beneath his desk and wrapped his hand around Crocea Mors. It made sense why the sword and shield had been forged without any consideration for Dust. Back in the early stages of the Crusade, Hunters did not have access to any Dust. Jaune's great-great grandfather was one of the first Huntsmen. He must have carried his newly crafted sword into the very first battle. The heirloom felt heavy in the young Arc's hands.

Excitement shone in Oobleck's blue eyes. "Following a series of incredible victories with relatively few casualties, Merlin ordered his lieutenants to travel around the corners of the kingdom and recruit more Revolutionaries. Slowly, the number of Hunters grew from two hundred to a thousand and further."

More and more images splashed across the holographic display. More and more battlefields were pictured, but each told a similar story. Thousands of knights became tens of thousands. Hundreds of Hunters became thousands. Again and again, monotonous grey was crushed beneath the rioting palette of hues and shades.

"The Third Crusade lasted six years, during which many noble Houses switched sides and joined the Revolution. Eventually, the fighting came to an end when Camelot Castle was finally broken by siege. Merlin himself led the final assault and reportedly slew the King with his own weapon, Excalibur."

Oobleck adjusted his thick rimmed glasses. "That was the last time he was seen."

Ruby questioned, "What happened to Merlin afterwards?"

Shaking his head slowly, "Nobody knows for certain. Some say that he took Excalibur and lived out the rest of his life in solitude, as repentance for raising the former king into power. Many people claim to have found Merlin's grave and Excalibur, but none of them have been verified. He may not even have a grave at all."

Resting her chin on her arm, Ruby glumly thought to herself.  _"Merlin was a true hero. He deserves better than an unmarked grave."_

Oobleck continued his lecture, "After the Third Crusade came to an end, most people expected Merlin to become the new king of Camelot. But since he disappeared, the singular super-kingdom of Camelot was broken into the four Kingdoms we have today."

The map of Remnant changed. The kingdom of Camelot became divided. All new crests replaced the proud dragon. Ruby could place each crest to its respective kingdom. It wasn't difficult when there were only four.

"Regrettably, this was not the end of the fighting. The Great War was a continuation of The Third Crusade. Both are collectively referred to as the Great War since there was never any peacetime in between. The four kingdoms began to bicker and battle over territory lines and trade laws. They established their own armies and started waging war on each other."

This was the part of the Great War that Ruby was familiar with. It didn't make sense to her. If they had just defeated one enemy, why would they suddenly turn on each other? Did it matter what kingdom had more resources if everyone shared? Politics flew over her head.

"What was quickly discovered was that casualty rates in battles became unsustainably high when Hunters were roped into fighting for either side. Regular soldiers could not hope to fight these superhuman warriors, and were slaughtered by them. Often, battles that started off with thousands of soldiers and a handful of Hunters ended with just the Hunters."

Various battlefields appeared. Countless bodies were carelessly strewn around the blood-soaked pastures. Jaune stared with a confused expression on his face. His dad has always told him stories where Arcs would fight in glorious battles during the Great War. But... where was the glory in these pictures?

"The four Kingdoms came to an agreement and drafted the Treaty of Mordare, which decreed that all Hunters were disallowed from joining any side during wars between kingdoms." Oobleck pointed his finger at the entire class, "Even Hunters-in-training, such as yourselves, are protected by the Treaty, granting them immunity from drafts. Any Huntsmen or Huntress that picks a side during a war is treated as a war criminal."

Suddenly, Ruby heard Blake muttering hotly. "I don't suppose that applies to Specialists though."

Ruby leaned in closer to the faunus and whispered, "What're you talking about?"

Blake replied in a low voice, "Atlas Academy indoctrinates its graduates into the Atlesian military under the title 'Specialists'. They do this because 'Hunters' aren't allowed to fight in any kingdom's army. But the Treaty of Mordare doesn't say anything about 'Specialists', now does it? It's a loophole in the Treaty, and Atlas is exploiting it for all its worth."

"I've heard my dad and uncle talk about Specialists." Ruby elaborated, "They usually just call them 'sellouts' and take a swig from their beer bottles. Doesn't that mean that Atlas is the only kingdom with Hunters in their army?"

"Scary thought, isn't it?" Amber eyes returned to the lecture.

Finally, the slideshow of war torn combat zones came to an end. The next image featured a familiar humble village sheltered within rolling hills.

"Fighting between Mantle, Vacuo, Mistral, and Vale lasted for fourteen years. It officially ended when the leaders of the kingdoms came together on the island of Vytal and signed the Treaty of Peace. The Great War ended where it had begun, in the modest village of Peace."

Newspaper headlines splashed across the screen. They screamed joyously, "PEACE AT LAST" and "THE GREAT WAR IS OFFICIALLY OVER" and "WELCOME HOME VETERANS" as well as various others.

Iconic images came into view. City streets filled with people waving their respective kingdom's flags. Children meeting their parents for the first time. Two women kissing passionately in the middle of a city square as fireworks detonated overhead.

"In total, the Great War was twenty years long. It started a hundred years ago, and ended eighty years ago. Since then, every two years, we celebrate the conclusion to the bloodiest war with the Vytal Festival."

With that, the presentation came to an end. The holographic screen flickered and died. Ruby ruminated on what she had learned. Eighty years ago, the whole world had been at war. For someone as young as Ruby, eighty years was no different from a thousand years. But was eighty really that big of a number? There were people older than eighty, right? Even if they were just growing up at that time, those people were actually living in the times when those pictures were taken.

To see the whole world change, what must that feel like? Ruby wondered if there was anyone still alive who had met Merlin.

Oobleck's words brought her out of her reverie.

"Since the conclusion of the Great War, we have experienced a time of peace, progress, and transformation. A technological and scientific revolution has exploded across the globe! It goes without saying that things have changed  _dramatically_  in the past eighty years."

He pointed a finger at the class and asked, "Can anyone tell me some changes that have as a result of the Great War?"

Weiss stood up and placed her hand on her chest. She spoke proudly, "My grandfather founded the Schnee Dust Company and secured a near-monopoly of Dust production. He made Dust available for public use, allowing Dust-powered technology to be accessible to  _everyone_."

Not to be outdone, Ruby jumped to her feet and hastily added, "Hunting academies were established in every kingdom to keep everyone safe! Now  _anyone_  can be the hero of their own story."

"Scientists started studying the soul." One student contributed. "They've published their findings, instead of hoarding them like the wizards of old. That's why Aura is common knowledge nowadays."

Another student threw in, "The Atlas Academy built the Cross Continental Transmit Towers as a means for communications between every kingdom. No more waiting weeks for a simple message."

More and more voices joined the growing clamor.

"Cultural movements rekindled the world's interest in art!"

"People began naming their children after colors!"

"Advancements in medicine have allowed for everyone to live longer and healthier lives."

"Pancakes were invented!"

"Nora, pancakes have been around a lot longer than that."

"We discovered two more continents! Although nobody has colonized them yet…"

"Anti-gravity propulsion was invented!"

"The Faith of Luna has become the most popular religion in the world!"

"Everything happened!"

Then,

"Humanity has been driven to the brink of extinction."

Everyone abruptly ceased speaking. Heads turned toward the new speaker. There was something about her tone that captured the whole room's attention. She had not raised her voice above a stage whisper, but somehow her words had been heard by every person.

All eyes landed on her.

Her every movement was effortlessly graceful. Each step was elegant and unwavering. Supple, pale legs crisscrossed as they carried her between the aisles. Shapely hips swayed hypnotically as she sashayed toward the front of the class. Her Haven Academy uniform skirt fluttered. Pliant fingertips ghosted over wooden desks, perfectly manicured nails drumming the lacquered surfaces as she passed by.

Her smooth pace spoke of a woman who did not feel the spotlight on her beautiful skin. If she were keenly aware of all the attention that she was garnering, it did not show with her majestic stride. The confidence she demonstrated was captivating. Ruby could not tear her eyes away.

Glass slippers  _clinked_  on the floor as she stopped beside Doctor Oobleck, her back turned to the rest of the class. She did not turn around, as though everyone behind her was beneath her notice. With one hand, she tossed her hair over her shoulder. Those sable strands rippled as they caught the light.

Finally, she pivoted on her heels and faced the class. Her eyes glowed like golden coins as they scythed through her captive audience. A knowing smile graced her crimson painted lips. With nothing more than a single sentence and the power of her presence, she had easily subjugated the entire student body.

Ruby recognized her at once. She was the woman that Ruby had bodily ran into while running down the halls. She had been accompanied by Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black. It struck Ruby as strange that she knew those names, but not the name of the lady that stood before her.

Suddenly, Oobleck became aware that he had not moved a muscle since she had spoken. He shook his head and readjusted his glasses. He turned toward the woman and stammered slightly.

"Ah yes! Um… pardon me… miss…?"

Coolly, "Eris. Sulphur Eris."

Stumbling over his tongue, "Thank you, Miss Eris… err… was there something you… wanted to discuss with the class?"

The woman—or Sulphur now, answered with a regal tone.

"What I  _want_  to do is point out the bias in this lesson. There's quite a lot about the Great War that you've glossed over, Doctor." Her striking eyes met his.

"Well…" the ordinarily articulate professor faltered. He adjusted his glasses for the second time in sixty seconds. Clearing his throat, "The Great War is a very… big subject. To talk about it in detail in a single lesson is—"

She cut him off crisply, "I thought you would be better than this. Clearly I was  _wrong."_

Oobleck started to protest, but Sulphur calmly interrupted him again.

"History is written by the winners, isn't that right? Until the losers of the war have their own historians, history will always glorify the victors. Even the most horrible villains can be seen as gallant heroes, and viscera, when viewed through tapered lens." Her eyes narrowed to slits.

She crossed her arms below her bosom and grasped her elbows, "Is it not  _your duty_  as a historian to tear -back the veil and teach the true history?"

Before Oobleck could react, the brunette reached over to his desk and picked up a history book.

"These books only depict small slices of the story." There was no mistaking the distain in her voice. "If you only teach what the winners tell you, then history misses out on the opposite perspective. Without both viewpoints, it's far too easy to fall for the idea that one side was pure good and the other side was pure evil."

Sulphur twisted her neck toward the class and dictated, "And as every well-educated individual knows, there is  _no such thing as pure evil."_

_**BANG!** _

The history book slipped from slender fingers and struck the floor, an audible period to her sentence.

In the silence that followed, Ruby struggled to figure out what she was feeling. A part of her was angry at Sulphur for verbally berating Oobleck, whom she had come to admire after Mount Glenn. But another side was curious. Weren't the Revolutionaries the good guys? Didn't they make freedom the right of every person? Why was this woman casting shade on the freedom fighters?

That's when she noticed just how intensely Blake was staring at Sulphur. Her bow twitched.

Oobleck adjusted his glasses and straightened his tie. His hands were shaking.

"If you don't mind," Sulphur insisted, "I would be more than  _happy_  to cast some light on the other side of the equation."

Without waiting for his answer, she pressed her hands together and began to pace in front of the students. Watching her movements, Ruby was reminded of a lioness prowling the savanna.

"The Great War," her velvety voice carried easily throughout the whole room, "was known as the bloodiest war in recorded history. But do any of you actually know how many lives were lost over the twenty-year span?"

Ruby peeked at Weiss expectantly, but the heiress remained rooted in her seat.

Sulphur explained, "A census recovered from a hundred years ago put Camelot's total population at approximately one hundred and fifty million people. After the war, the new kingdoms made a census of their own populaces. The combined post-war population of Remnant was roughly…"

She halted in place.

Her full lips were parted.

Golden eyes gazed upward.

A pregnant pause filled the air.

Ruby's belly twisted nauseatingly.

She could not tear her silver eyes away.

The entire class was hanging on her every word.

Sulphur sighed the next two words.

"…twenty million."

For the second time, loud gasps erupted from the students.

"That's right," she spoke sadly, "over one hundred million people perished in the Great War."

Ruby felt lightheaded. Wasn't the War waged to  _save_  lives?

"On top of that, population growth has nearly completely stagnated since. It's been eighty years, and yet we have not even reached a fifth of the amount of people who  _died_  in the Great War."

Pacing again, "During Camelot's golden age, the population was growing at a healthy rate. But the War changed all of that. Now we are dying as fast as we're being born, and it's all thanks to the winners."

She shook her black hair contemptuously.

"The Revolution no longer seems like such a great idea, now does it?"

The corners of her lips pulled upward ever so slightly.

"One thing that the good doctor failed to mention," scathing eyes passed over Oobleck briefly, "was just how  _successful_  King Arthur was at purging his kingdom of the Grimm. Throughout the  _entire_  kingdom, Grimm sightings were incredibly rare. In fact, there were people in the innermost cities who disregarded the very existence of Grimm as superstition. This is something that we simply  _cannot fathom_  in today's time, where we all live in fear of the next breach."

She swept her hand toward the class. "Go ahead and try. Try to imagine living in a time where everyone felt  _safe._  Try to imagine what it was like, back when people could travel between distant cities without worrying about Beowolves or Ursa. Imagine going your whole life without living in fear of monsters  _erupting_  from the ground beneath your feet."

"It's impossible for us to imagine. Fear is a constant state of mind." Tapping her temple, "It's always there, lurking in the back of our heads. So long as we stay busy with our daily lives, we can keep from dwelling upon it. But as the sun sets and you lay your head to rest, it comes back to haunt your sleeping hours."

Ruby turned her head and noticed a surprising number of students nodding in agreement.

"This persistent state of dread was not present during King Arthur's reign. He ensured that the border guards were powerful enough to hold back the horde. So long as the knights of Camelot were well armed and supplied, people felt safe in their humble villages."

A wistful expression graced Sulphur's beautiful features.

Then it passed and her face became stone.

"The Revolutionaries changed all of that."

Her voice became hard.

"When the Revolutionaries began to grow in strength, King Arthur was forced to call his armies back from the borders. As the war continued to escalate, more and more knights were rerouted to fight the rebellion. Meanwhile, the creatures of Grimm did not relent in their endless assault upon the borders. Camelot was fighting a war on two fronts, inside and out. The knights valiantly defending the line held out for as long as they could, but ultimately…"

She bowed her head.

"…The Grimm overwhelmed their defenses and swept into Camelot. Lands that had been free from monsters were now flattened beneath a tidal wave of teeth and claws. The villages closest to the borders were flooded with Grimm without any warning. Families who went to sleep in their homes were mercilessly devoured. And the Grimm simply kept pouring in, faster and faster. Millions upon millions were consumed by monsters that had been seen as mere superstition. They flooded the land almost completely unopposed. Even after Camelot fell and the four kingdoms were born, the Grimm never ceased. For twenty years, the Great War kept everyone so busy that they didn't have time to protect  _the people they were fighting for."_

Frozen in place, Ruby couldn't stop her imagination from running wild with ghastly images. She wished Yang were here to comfort her.

Raising her raven crowned head, Sulphur uttered vehemently, "History books say that the Revolutionaries won the Great War. But if that were the case, then why do the Grimm own vastly more territory today than they did a hundred years ago? The  _true_  victors of the Great War were the creatures of Grimm."

Her tone darkened, "Humanity has remembered what it is like to live in fear. And we have not forgotten it since. This is an Age  _defined_  by terror. The security that humanity once enjoyed was torn down. And for what?"

Nobody spoke.

Spreading her arms out as though daring anyone to answer, "What did we trade our security, our territories, and  _over a hundred million lives for?"_

Ruby looked in every direction, but there was not a single student who could meet Sulphur's challenge.

After waiting patiently for a moment, Sulphur let her hands return to her sides. She turned around and confidently continued her speech, "I hope that you can all now appreciate the magnitude of a mistake that Merlin made when he started the Third Crusade—"

Squeezing her hands into fists, Ruby rose to her feet and shouted.

"Freedom!"

Caught off guard by the sudden cry, Sulphur faltered in mid-step. Quickly recovering her balance, she pivoted on her heels to face Ruby.

Time seemed to slow.

**Gold met silver.**

For a split second, Sulphur's eyes widened by a centimeter. Then she regained her composure. An amused smile fell upon her face. Her arms crossed beneath her breasts, grasping her elbows.

Laughter, soft as a feather and sharp as a razor, slipped from her lips. "Please pardon me, but what did you just say?"

Dozens of stares landed on Ruby. She was keenly aware of every pair of eyes. Each one felt like a cold needle dragging up her skin. The weight of the attention she was garnering landed on her thin shoulders. Her knees felt weak. She forced herself to inhale before she spoke.

"F—freedom! The… the Revolutionaries fought f—for freedom!"

Sulphur's smile broadened as Ruby stumbled through her ill-planned speech.

"N—now everyone is free to… uh…  _believe_  what they want and –err—  _read_  what they want and  _write_  what they want...um…"

She grasped the air as if searching for more examples of freedom. "Pl—plus now people can  _create_  what they want and  _learn_  where they want too. They fought so that everyone could  _live their lives_  the way they want!"

Her knees were quaking, her hands were sweaty, and she hoped that the ground would open up beneath her feet. She didn't have the older woman's confidence or public speaking skills. But for some reason, Ruby felt as though  _someone_  needed to speak up.

Seconds passed as though the clock hands were moving through molasses.

Finally,

"Freedom?"

She sounded almost sad.

"You believe we live in a free society?"

With her eyebrows upturned and lips slightly puckered, Sulphur gazed at Ruby with a pitying expression. She addressed the girl as though she were an elementary grade student.

"Is that what you've been told, little girl?"

Perfectly trimmed fingernails combed through luscious ebony locks as Sulphur shook her head sympathetically. Her intense stare never once broke away from Ruby. Flecks of fire burned in her golden irises. There was no pathos in those orbs.

"If you want to  _learn_  about freedom…"

She turned her head around, slowly and deliberately. Her eyes swept through the crowd. Briefly, they landed upon Blake. Then they passed over her and found someone else.

Velvet Scarlatina was seated in the very back corner of the class. She didn't need to be near the teacher to hear him, not with her tall rabbit ears rising from her chestnut hair. If at all possible, she always tried to make sure that her rabbit ears didn't obstruct any other student's line of sight. With a button nose and mousy face, the shy faunus was undeniably adorable.

The moment Sulphur's eyes locked onto Velvet, she became completely still. She was frozen like prey before a predator. Desperate to avoid attention, the fourth year student tried to sink beneath her desk.

"…why not ask Miss Scarlatina if  _she_  thinks that modern day society is truly  _free_?"

Ruby felt as though she had been punched in the gut. How could she have failed to take faunus civil rights into consideration? She was sitting next to Blake, for crying out loud! Her knees practically gave out before she could voluntarily sit down. Her chin fell to her chest and silver eyes were downcast.

Watching her last opponent take a seat, Sulphur smirked ever so slightly. Then she spoke to the whole class with a tone that commanded attention.

"Anyone who still believes that freedom is worth  _all_  costs, remember the millions of families that lost their lives in the Great War. If they could cast their vote between freedom and security, what side do you think they would choose?"

Sulphur turned away from the class, away from Oobleck, and started to strut toward the exit. With her finely molded shoulders back and spine ramrod straight, she radiated an aura of overpowering conviction. She placed her hand on the doorframe and addressed the class one last time.

"The Revolutionaries did not ask anyone for their vote before they started the War."

She walked out of the room.

For a moment, there was silence. Then the bell rang and signaled the end of class. People began to move slowly, as though waking from a dream. Oobleck knelt down and picked up his history book from the floor.

Nora sarcastically quipped, "I bet she must be a ton of  _fun_  at parties!"

Jaune leaned over his desk and spoke to Ruby. "Wow, I can't believe you stood up in front of the whole class. How did it feel?"

"Absolutely terrifying." She dropped her forehead on the desk.

"Well," Pyrrha soothed, "I thought you were very brave. Miss Eris was out of line when she called you a little girl."

Ruby lifted her cherry-tipped crown and smiled weakly in return.

A randy smirk spread across Neptune's lips as he stared at the door. "What a  _woman!"_  he professed aloud. Unaware of immediate company, the handsome Huntsman began to wolf whistle.

That's when he felt twin icicles plunging into his spine.

Weiss glared at Neptune's exposed back with cerulean daggers. He froze in place, an expression of absolute terror plastered upon his face. Any motion could be his last. Cold sweat ran down his neck.

Team JNPR and RB watched the murder scene as it unfolded.

Smiling subtly, Blake offered some advice, "Keep absolutely still. Her vision is based on movement."

"I hope he bolts for the door." Nora whispered as quietly as she could, which was to say that everyone in the room could hear her.

"Someone's going to have to tell Sun that his team name is now just the sound of a snake hissing." Ren chimed in.

Neptune glanced behind him and spoke tentatively, "Hey babe…"

Four seconds later and Neptune was following behind Weiss as she stormed out of the room. Profuse apologies floated through the air as he trailed the furious heiress.

Ruby gathered up her books in her arms and started toward the exit. Then her eyes landed upon Doctor Oobleck, who was standing uncharacteristically still. He stared listlessly at the book in his hands. She walked up to the tall teacher and cautiously asked, "…Um, are you okay, Doctor Oobleck?"

Bright blue eyes rose from the book to meet silver.

Oobleck smiled a little too quickly. "I'm  _perfectly_  alright. I just…" he faltered for a second, "…was questioning my teaching credentials." His shoulders fell.

"It appears that I was just  _schooled_  by a younger student within my own class." His eyes lingered on Ruby. "Just as  _you_  were distraught when you learned of King Arthur's atrocities, so the same am I now that I've learned about the Revolutionaries and the lives they sacrificed."

The man appeared to deflate. "Perhaps my grasp on history is not as secure as I previously imagined. It seems as though I still have a lot to learn."

"Well, then learn it." Ruby answered simply.

He stared back.

She shrugged, "Just learn what you haven't learned yet, and then teach the next class what you've learned. Don't spend time sulking about the problem. Just fix it."

A wiry smile landed on Oobleck's face. "It's that simple, is it?"

"Sure! Why not?"

Oobleck stood straighter and lifted his head. "Why not, indeed. I guess it really  _is_  that simple."

He nodded his green-topped head at the elfin girl. "Thank you, Ruby. I suppose I know now what Ozpin means when he talks about a simple soul. Perhaps I should spend more time researching true history, rather than what is simply told in these books."

The history book slipped from his fingers and  _ **slammed**_  on the floor. Oobleck turned his back on the discarded book and strolled toward his computer. Ruby thought that his shoulders looked broader than before.

"You should catch up with your friends."

Ruby spun around and ran out the door, her crimson cloak trailing behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> King Arthur vs Merlin. Security vs freedom. Which do you think was right?


	24. Human Passing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Penny meet up and look for Yang.

With a decidedly undignified grunt, Ruby tilted the bag of dry dog food. A cascade of pellets landed into the food dish. Her arms shook with exertion as she continued pouring into Zwei's tray. This lasted until the pile of chow was high enough to reach her knees. She staggered backwards, mindful of football sized corgi dancing around her feet. Zwei wasted no time in stuffing his face into the mountain of kibble.

"Good grief," Ruby exclaimed as she watched the dog consume with reckless abandon, "you're going at it as though you haven't eaten in months!"

Ruby knelt down beside the ravenous canine. Then she scratched him behind the ears and smiling warmly as his stumpy tail wagged so fast it became a blur. Calloused fingers combed through short black fur, feeling the warmth soaking into her palms. Zwei leaned into Ruby's hand, demanding to be petted more.

"Have you been feeling neglected lately? I'm sorry!" She rubbed the soft fur briskly. Zwei turned away from his food tray and leaped up into Ruby's arms. His tongue dragged across her cherub cheek and she giggled in response. She cradled Zwei like a baby, letting him lick her face affectionately.

When the corgi was content with the quality of cuddles, he dropped from Ruby's arms and returned to conquering Mount Kibble.

Sitting on the floor with her ankles crossed, the red-cloaked girl fell into deep thought.

"What am I going to do with Yang?" she asked Zwei.

Weiss wanted to put Yang in a corner and try to force her into compliance. Ruby wasn't sure such a plan would work. Her big sister was the kind of person who became even more stubborn under pressure. Yang could be led to water, but she would refuse to drink even if she were dying from dehydration.

Ruby thought back to all the times in the past when Yang refused to eat the vegetables off her plate. Taiyang would tell her that she could not leave the dinner table until the greens were gone. Then he would cross his burly arms and wait patiently for his eldest daughter to surrender. Both of them were such stubborn knuckleheads that they would remain sitting at the table for hours. One particularly ridiculous stare-down lasted so long that Ruby ended up eating a handful of cookies while reading her own bedtime story.

Shaking her cherry-tipped hair at the memory, Ruby decided that Yang was not going to buckle under force. She was like carbon; she only became harder beneath pressure.

"I'm just gonna try talking to her again. Maybe if I turn up my puppy-dog eyes full-blast, she'll finally go back to normal? What d'ya think, Zwei?"

Zwei provided absolutely no well thought out advice. Or, if he did, it was muffled beneath mouthfuls of dogfood.

"Yeah, the pitiful puppy-dog act is our specialty. This plan has gotta work."

Jumping to her feet, Ruby started to walk toward the dorm room when her scroll began to belt out musical lyrics. Her ringtone was her favorite song.

" _This will be the day we've waited for! This will be the day we open up the door!"_

Fumbling with poorly designed pockets, Ruby finally extracted the singing scroll. When she read the caller ID, her brow furrowed in confusion.

There was no number on her scroll. Instead, the screen was filled a flashing red **RESTRICTED** warning.

" _I don't wanna to hear your absolution."_

Stomach sinking, she stared at the scroll in her hand.

" _Hope you're ready for a revolution!"_

Never before has this happened. Who could possibly be on the other end of the line?

" _Welcome to a world of new solutions."_

Her finger nervously inched toward the answer button.

" _Welcome to a world of bloody evolution."_

She slid her finger across the green icon and cut off the song. Lifting the device to her ear, Ruby answered the mysterious caller with an apprehensive, "Hello?"

"Greetings, Ruby my friend!" a familiar voice came from the speaker, conjuring images of a smiling freckled face, ginger hair, and a bright pink bow.

All of the tension in her body evaporated. Ruby expelled the breath she had been holding. She exclaimed in relief, "Penny! So you were the one calling me! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

Swiftly assuaging, "Not you, but my scroll wigged out when you called. There was no caller ID at all. All it said was 'restricted' over and over again." She hesitated for a second, then spoke with a puzzled tone of voice, "Hold up. I don't remember giving you my scroll number. How did you get this number?"

Penny answered, "I learned your number after I picked up your scroll the third time we met."

Silver eyes blinked, "You got my number just from holding my scroll?"

"Yes."

Ruby frowned, "Penny, you shouldn't just take people's information without permission."

She sounded regretful, "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to get it otherwise."

"You could've just asked. Then I would've given it to you." Ruby provided.

"You're right," Penny agreed sorrowfully, "that was rude of me."

"It's okay. Just water under the bridge now." She quickly comforted. "Since you got my number, why don't you tell me yours?"

Anxiously, "Um… I don't think General Ironwood wants me to give out my internal scroll number. He restricted it for that reason."

"Well that's not fair." Ruby complained, "How am I supposed to call you?"

"I _suppose_ you could call my Father's laboratory. That's usually where I am when I'm not training. The number is…" Ten digits followed.

After recording the number, Ruby questioned, "So, what were you calling me for anyways?"

Cheerful again, "I called to tell you that I am coming over to visit!" Penny excitedly explained, "I have received a visitor's permit from Headmaster Ozpin. General Ironwood has told me that it would be good manners to call and tell you before I arrived."

"Oh!" Ruby's back straightened. "Well, when're ya going to arrive?"

No sooner did the words leave her mouth when she heard loud knocking coming from the outside of the dorm room. She exhaled in frustration. "Sorry Penny, but I need to put'cha on hold real quick. Someone's knocking on my door."

Holding her scroll loosely in one hand, Ruby strode to the door and twisted the door handle. She opened the door with a cautious, "Hello?"

"Salutations!" Penny exclaimed from directly in front of her.

Screaming, Ruby fell backwards and landed squarely on the floor. Her scroll flew from her grasp and struck the floor beside her. Thankfully, it was sheathed in a protective rubber casing, courtesy of Weiss.

The android stepped inside and stood beside her fallen friend's prone body. Ruby stared at the ceiling with an indifferent expression on her face.

"Penny?" she asked calmly.

"Yes, Ruby?"

"Did the General happen to give you a reasonable timeframe for how soon you're supposed to call _before you arrive?"_

"No, he did not."

"I see." Ruby sighed.

"Did I do something wrong?" She twiddled her fingers fretfully.

"No, you weren't told the rules, that's all. For future reference, try calling at least twenty minutes ahead, got it?"

Penny's mouth formed an 'O' and she nodded her ginger crown. Ruby raised a hand and Penny grasped it with her own.

Ruby found herself focusing on the texture of the synthetic skin that covered Penny's metal chassis. It felt warm and pliant, like real skin. But it couldn't cover up the fact that Penny did not have bones. The metacarpals in Ruby's hand flexed when squeezed. However, Penny's hand had no give. It was solid metal with overlapping plates instead of individual bones. In a way, it made sense given the robot girl's militaristic purpose. The human hand was not designed for striking. Every joints in the wrist and fingers suffered damaged upon hitting anything rock-hard. People made of squishy meat require external hand protection before they can punch with impunity. But Penny did not need any such reinforcements. She was built with combat in mind, so her hands were far more functional for that purpose.

Inwardly, Ruby wondered if Penny had any choice on how her body was designed.

Lost in thought, the red-cloaked girl was pulled to her feet before she could brace herself. Her shoulder felt like it was being wrenched out of its socket. As usual, Penny underestimated her own strength. She was so eager to help that she had a tendency to forget that she was made of much tougher stuff than those she was helping. The combat droid could tear a normal human being limb from limb if she were so inclined. Or she could accidentally accomplish the same thing just lifting her friend off the floor.

"Now that I'm here," Penny clasped her hands together, "is there anything you would like to do?"

Rotating her shoulder to work out the aches, Ruby replied while wincing, "That's part of the reason why you call ahead, so that I can come up with ideas. I was already going to do something by myself."

Neon green eyes fell and Penny's narrow shoulders drooped. "I understand. I should not have assumed that you were available. I'm sorry to have bothered you." With her head bowed, she turned and shuffled out the door.

Ruby waved her hands frantically, "Wait, don't leave just yet! Actually, it's something that we can do together!"

Instantly pivoting on her heels, Penny faced her friend and beamed, "Wonderful! Let's do that then!"

The speed of her recovery caused suspicion to sprout in Ruby's heart. Was it possible that Penny was also practiced in pitiful puppy-dog manipulation? Silver eyes narrowed to thin slits. Then she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm trying to find Yang. I really need to talk to her. She's turned off her scroll, so I can't call her."

Penny tilted her head to the side, "Are you having trouble with another teammate?"

Wincing at the indirect and likely unintended criticism, Ruby weakly confessed, "Well, yeah. Yang has been acting really weirdly and won't talk to anyone. Last night, she stayed out way too late and came home with a nasty looking wound." Her chin dropped to her chest. "I'm really worried that Yang is going to get hurt again."

Throwing her arms around the discomforted girl, Penny declared, "Don't you worry, Ruby my friend! I will help you find your sister and we will get to the bottom of this! I won't rest until Yang is back to normal!"

The ironclad certainty in Penny's voice would have been a great comfort for Ruby, were it not for the ironclad hug crushing her bones.

Releasing Ruby from the rib wrecking embrace, Penny quickly questioned, "Where should we start looking?"

"Uh… the gym is always a good place to start."

"Excellent! Let's go to the gym!" The excitable gynoid took off running down the hall.

Ruby remained right where she was.

Penny returned to her side, "I do _not_ know where the gym is located."

Sighing, "How about I give you a tour of Beacon Academy while we look for Yang?"

"Sensational!"

* * *

The pair entered Beacon Academy's gym through the front door. Ruby remembered how impressed she was when she first laid eyes upon its expansive interior. It appeared even more impressive now that it was packed with students, foreign and native. Every exercise machine was in use and the running tracks had so many people that they appeared like a single moving unit. The combat rings were filled with Hunters-in-training, each preparing for the Vytal Festival.

Penny's head was on a swivel, curly orange strands bouncing as she looked every which way. Brilliant green eyes soaked in the sights.

"Wow!" she clapped her hands, "So this is what humans do for exercise! It looks like so much fun!"

Memories of lifting hand weights and counting chin-ups rose unbidden within Ruby's mind. She wobbled her hand and made a noncommittal noise. "Eh… it depends on what you do. My favorite exercises have always been running and hula-hoops. Yang really likes lifting weights and no-Aura sparring. She's always challenging people to race her on the salmon ladders."

"I can't get stronger by exercising." Penny explained, "My metal pieces don't become denser through repeated use. Rather, they weaken over time. If not for my Aura, all of my joints would require regular repairs or replacements. The healing properties of Aura means that I don't need maintenance in the field, which would otherwise severely handicap my self-sufficient operations."

"Well Penny, I don't think you need to worry about getting stronger. You're _plenty_ powerful enough already. I mean, _geez_ , you single-handedly tore through those White Fang faster than my whole team could've! And the way you blasted those airships, like—" Ruby began to make noises with her mouth, imitating the sound of a laser beam charging and discharging.

Giggling, "I'll be happy to show you more of my moves in the tournament!"

Ruby imagined the possibility of Team RWBY versus Penny. All of the color drained from her face.  
Quickly changing the subject, "We need to find Yang. Let's split up and start searching. You look where people are lifting weights and I'll check out the fighting places. We can meet up right here in half-an-hour."

She started to make her way toward the combat rings when Penny called out.

"Actually!" she shouted at the retreating red cloak, "I would like to try something faster!"

Returning to her friend, Ruby asked, "Do you have a better idea?"

"Yes." Penny gestured toward the ceiling. Silver eyes followed where she was pointing. There were a number of cameras mounted high up on the walls. "I can see that there are a lot of security cameras located within the gym. If you would like, I can access the cameras to look through them. Then I'll be able to scan the entire area with my facial recognition software and pick Yang out of the crowd in no time at all."

Scratching the back of her head, "You can do that? Well, uh, if it can help us find Yang faster…" Uncertainty wormed in her voice.

The bright pink bow bobbed once. Then green eyes locked onto a camera directly above. Penny's entire body became completely rigid, not a finger moved. It was unsettling to see such an energetic person holding as still as a corpse.

Ruby turned her gaze up and realized the camera was swiveling on its mount. Mechanical lenses swept across the scene in frantic, jerky motions. Then she noticed that _every_ camera was performing the same spasmodic dance. _"I wonder how it looks when you see with bunches of eyes at once?"_ she pondered.

Abruptly, Penny announced, "Yang is not in this building."

"Really?"

"I have scanned every face. None of them match your sister."

Ruby crossed her arms, "Shoot. This was really the only place I expected to see Yang. I guess she could be somewhere I don't expect to see her."

Shrugging her narrow shoulders, "Where should we look next?"

The young girl began tapping a rhythm with her boot while she mentally listed all of the locations Yang could be. The armory was the next most likely place, although Yang clocked far less time in the firing range than she did the gym. Classrooms were out, because of the suspension. The workshop was another possibility, except Yang would have taken her tools if she had been planning to tinker with Ember Celica. Beacon's library was pretty much bottom of the list. It was astronomically improbable that Yang would be working on class assignments in her current state. She would more likely hit the books literally rather than metaphorically.

She asked, "Can you look through the cameras in the armory?"

Penny shook her head, "The camera system in the gym doesn't talk directly to the other camera systems. I would have to route through Beacon's main security hub. It's possible…" she held her finger and thumb scant centimeters apart, "…but there's only a _tiny_ chance that I could do it undetected. I would get in a lot of trouble if I were caught."

Ruby's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Oh gosh, I didn't even realize that you could get busted by doing this! You should've told me before you accessed the cameras the first time!"

Shaking her head even harder now, "Don't worry Ruby! I won't get caught using the cameras onsite. They can only detect me if I try to stream video feeds through their network."

"If you say so…" Ruby didn't sound completely reassured. "Well then, let's go to the armory."

A wide grin spread across Penny's freckled face as she fell in line behind her friend.

Just as she promised, Ruby gave Penny a tour of Beacon Academy. The facial scans only took a handful of seconds to complete. They didn't find Yang, but still Ruby played the good tour guide and spent quality time in every location. She had a lot of fun showing the lively android all of the different facilities.

It was always a heartwarming sight, beholding Penny's excitement over the weapons in the armory; seeing her eagerness as they explored the workshop; watching her try and smell every solitary flowerbed in the expansive gardens; and observing those bright green eyes light up when they discovered the enormous library. The curious ginger's unrestrained enthusiasm upon every new discovery was endearing. Ruby found herself smiling unbidden. The sun had begun its slow descent before they even realized how much time had passed.

Walking around the Hero's Monument, they enjoyed a light breeze saturated with the scents of the approaching summer. Crimson leaves rustled in the wind. The heat of the sun was waxing and the days were growing longer, signaling the end of spring. The season of life was coming to a close. Soon it would be the season of maturing.

The thunderous sound of a stomach gurgling broke the current conversation.

Penny tilted her head and asked, "I've heard that noise before, coming from Father after he spends too much time in his laboratory. Are you getting hungry, Ruby?"

Stroking her belly, Ruby exclaimed, "Holy cow, we've been walking a lot longer than I thought." Her tongue felt dry. "I'm getting thirsty too."

Saluting her friend, she offered, "Since you were kind enough to give me a tour, I will get you a refreshing beverage!"

The pair made their way to the nearest vending machine. Ruby crouched down before the machine as she parsed through her choices. Finally, she pointed and said, "Gimme some of that two percent milk." Then she quickly added, "Please."

There was a number pad and a lien deposit slot. Penny did not interact with either of those. Instead she simply fixated her emerald eyes on the milk bottle. Her orange brow furrowed in concentration

"Uh… Penny? You kinda need to put money in the—"

With a click and a whir, the vendor sprang to life and deposited a bottle of two percent milk. Swift digits swiped the milk box and presented it to Ruby.

"Here you go!" Penny grinned.

Silver eyes widened in alarm. "Penny? Did you just hack into the vending machine for free stuff? That's _stealing."_

The freckled girl frowned. "No, I didn't hack the vending machine."

"What d'ya mean? You _totally_ hacked the vending machine." Ruby asserted.

"No, I did _not_ hack the machine." Penny insisted. "I'm _not capable_ of hacking. I don't have any hacking software loaded into my programming."

Now it was Ruby's turn to frown. "You can't hack? Then, what've you been doing this whole time, with the cameras? Weren't you hacking into the cameras?"

Exasperation exploded from the android, "I just said that I _don't have_ hacking software. I'm designed for _combat_ , not _infiltration._ All I did was ask the cameras to give me their sight, and they did." She gestured to the vending machine. "I also asked the vendor to give me a two percent milk, and it did." Then she pointed at Ruby's pocket. "Way back then, I asked your scroll for its number, and it gave it to me." Finally, she tapped her temple and explained, "What I do is wish really hard in my mind, and then they do as I ask."

Confusion creased Ruby's brow. "If you're not hacking, then how're you making these machines obey you?"

Palms held up. "I don't know, they just sort of _do."_

Silence settled between them.

"Okay, okay," Ruby pinched the bridge of her nose, "so you don't have hacking software. Fine, I'll just leave that there for now."

She mimed an imaginary box between her hands and set it aside. Then she held another make-believe container in front of her. "But it doesn't change that _taking_ something that you haven't _paid for_ is _stealing."_

The hand holding the milk fell to Penny's side. "My moral guidance algorithms indicated that asking for something and getting it for free fell underneath the 'free samples' exception." She shook her head, "I'll be sure to remember that. Being a good girl is a lot harder than I thought it would be." She sighed, "I guess the best thing for me to do would be to throw this away."

Smacking dehydrated lips, Ruby quickly piped up, _"Well_ , if you've learned your lesson then… uh… that's the important thing. This was just a… teachable moment?" She drummed her fingers together anxiously.

The milk bottle was extended toward the red-cloaked girl.

She snatched the bottle out of Penny's hand, twisted off the cap, and tipped it against her parched tongue. General Ironwood once referred to Ruby's influence on Penny as _questionable._ The robotic girl watched her friend guzzle the accidentally stolen milk and mentally conceded that he may have had a point.

Crushing the empty bottle in her hand, Ruby sighed in relief. Then she pointed down a path that led deeper into campus grounds and declared, "Next stop on the tour is the cafeteria!"

* * *

By the time they returned to the dorm room, daylight was fading. Ruby rubbed her stomach in satisfaction.

"Nothing beats a bowl of curry and rice!" she professed. "Yang likes to put a lot of hot spices in her curry so that I don't sneak any of it."

"It was very fascinating," Penny smiled broadly, "watching you eat."

Heat pricked at Ruby's cheeks. She quickly turned her rose-colored face away and pretended to fumble with her dorm room lock. For some reason, the angelic android's expression caused Ruby to feel self-conscious about her reddening cheeks.

Suddenly, Penny smacked her forehead.

_**CLANG!** _

"Oh gosh! I'm _so_ stupid!" she bemoaned.

"What's the matter, Penny?" Ruby asked.

"I could have found out Yang's location _so easily_ by using her scroll!" She sounded disappointed in herself.

"Penny, I already told you that she turned her scroll off."

Shaking her carroty hair, "That doesn't matter. There are ways to make a scroll turn on, which are used by emergency recovery specialists in order to locate missing civilians. They emit a special signal to the scroll, forcing it to activate so that they can pinpoint its location, and by extension its user. Unless she removed the battery, I should still be able to find your sister."

The elfin girl scratched her black cherry locks. "Uh… well then… go ahead and do that?"

Bright green eyes fluttered closed. Her head tilted from side to side while turning slowly. She appeared to be listening for a sound that Ruby's ears couldn't detect. Her lips were slightly parted. They were such a pretty pink color. Were they as soft as her hands?

Without warning Penny's eyes snapped open. "I found her!" she shouted.

Ruby fell backwards and nearly brained herself against the door handle. Her crimson cloak fell over her face, neatly concealing her equally crimson cheeks. From beneath the red riding hood her voice came out muffled, "Good job, Penny. Now where is Yang?"

Standing over her friend's prone body, "Are you okay? Do you need help getting up?"

"No, no." Waving the worry away, "I will get up when I'm good and ready."

"Okay then? Yang is currently located in downtown Vale. She's moving very swiftly down Upton Road."

Catapulting upright, "What? So she wasn't even on campus grounds to begin with?" She flipped her cloak back and rose to a standing position.

"We wouldn't have needed to tour the school if I had just remembered to ping Yang's scroll sooner. I'm sorry that I wasted your day." Penny sounded crestfallen. Her chin dropped and her shoulders slumped.

"I wouldn't say that today was a waste." Ruby rubbed the back of her head. "I had a lot of fun, so it was worth it anyways."

Penny began to smile again. Silver eyes averted away from the dazzling sight.

Stammering, "A—anyways, there's no point in trying to catch up to Yang if she's riding her motorcycle around the city, doing _who-knows-what._ I'll just have to wait for her to come back."

The dorm room swung inward and the pair strode inside.

Zwei barked loudly upon witnessing his master.

Penny's mouth dropped wide open. She thrust a finger at the corgi and cried out in a shrill voice, "Is that a doggy?!"

"Yeah, you didn't notice him the first time?"

Clasping her hands together, Penny began to hop on alternating feet. Ruby could feel the vibrations through the floor as the deceptively heavy girl danced in place.

Words spilled out like a broken dam, "Oh! He's so _cute!_ What's his name? I've _always_ wanted to pet a doggy! Can I pet him, Ruby, _please?_ I'll positively _die_ if I don't get to pet him!" Her rambling was interrupted by a mighty hiccup.

"Woah, calm down Penny!" Ruby exclaimed. "His name is Zwei and I'll _absolutely_ let you pet him. But you need to stop jumping or you'll scare him."

With obvious effort, she held still. Her hands slapped over her mouth.

"You good? Just let Zwei sniff you so that he becomes familiar with your scent."

Ruby gently pushed the corgi in the stationary android's direction. Zwei glanced back at his master with wary black eyes. She smiled encouragingly. He waddled over to Penny and stuck his nose against her ankle. A strangled squeal emitted from behind tightly intertwined fingers.

Zwei turned slightly.

Then he lifted his stubby back leg.

"OH GOD NO!" Ruby screamed. She dived the distance and grabbed her dog off the ground, a flurry of rose petals fluttered in the air. Beseeching the bewildered corgi, "Why, Zwei, why? You know better than to pee on people! Penny isn't a fire hydrant, she's my friend!"

If it were possible for Penny to look any more devastated, it would be too heartbreaking to see without eye protection. "Why doesn't Zwei like me?" she moaned tearfully.

Suddenly, a third person made herself known, "Probably because you don't have a smell."

Penny and Ruby turned toward around. Blake stood in the doorway, coolly assessing the situation. The Beacon's female uniform conformed to her womanly figure. Her signature stygian bow sat on top of her black velvet hair. She stepped inside and the door _clicked_ behind her.

Ruby grinned, "Oh hey Blake!" Zwei began to struggle in her arms in an attempt to reach the feline faunus. The red-cloaked girl tightened her clinch on the excited corgi.

Neon green eyes met bisected amber.

"What do you mean," Penny asked, "when you say that I don't have a smell?"

"I meant it exactly how I said it." Blake maintained. "You don't smell like anything. Or at least, you don't have your _own_ smell. I can detect other peoples' smell on you, mostly Ruby right now, but nothing that belongs to you personally."

Silver eyes widened, "So you know Penny's secret?!"

Shaking her head, "I have a good idea, but not the specifics. All I know for certain is that Penny isn't exactly a _normal_ girl."

Penny cautiously questioned, "How long have you known?"

"I had an inkling of suspicion the first time we met. At the time, I just figured that you must've had a recent shower which washed away your smell." Blake tilted her head, "The second time was much different. After the battle on the wharf, everyone was hot and reeked of sweat. Everyone except for _you._ That's when I realized that there was more to you than meets the eye."

Still fighting to keep her dog in her arms, Ruby inquired, "You've known about this for _months_ , but never asked? Aren't you curious?"

Amber eyes flashed, "On the contrary, I'm _very curious."_ The bow twitched, "But it would be hypocritical of me to pry into the business of someone passing themselves off as a regular human." Then she gazed directly at Penny, "And besides, I owe you a debt after you saved me from Roman and the White Fang. I won't ask any questions, not if you don't want me to."

A grateful smile graced Penny's face, "Thank you."

Nodding her head, "You're welcome."

With a catlike gait, Blake approached her dresser and opened the top drawer. Reaching inside, she produced a crystalline glass bottle with an intricate flower-shaped cap. Inside was a lilac-colored liquid. "The only reason why I'm saying something _now_ is because I want to give Penny some tips."

The cap popped off and Blake directed a nozzle toward her body. Lifting her chin up and to the side, she depressed the nozzle and a fine mist sprayed from the bottle. After coating one half of her neck, Blake turned her chin and sprayed the other side. With one hand, she rubbed the perfume into her skin. Then with the same hand, she reached up and dotted behind her lower set of ears.

After rubbing the fragrance into her wrists, Blake returned to Penny. She held out the bottle and explained, "I wear this perfume to mask my scent while among fellow faunus. It would be a good idea for you to wear perfume of your own. It should help, even if it's for the exact opposite purpose."

"You don't want to be known among your own kind?" Penny asked.

"Faunus who are 'human passing' become pariahs in every social circle. I'm too faunus to be a human, and I'm acting too much like a human to be accepted by faunus." Amber eyes fell to the floor. She murmured, "All it would take is one faunus to sniff me out and reveal my secret. I'd rather not let them catch my scent in the first place."

Wrapping the bottle and Blake's hands within her own, Penny smiled promisingly, "I understand. You could say that I'm passing as a human, just the same as you. And also the same as you, I would rather not imagine what would happen if people were to learn my secret."

A third pair of hands trapped Penny and Blake's. Ruby stood between them. She declared, "What _would_ happen is your friends would stick by your side, no matter what! If either of you were outed then Team RWBY, plus Penny, would have your back!"

Her voice quieted, "I know _all about_ sticking with each other through tough times. Even when it seems as though nothing will ever be good again, we can weather the storm together. _Nothing_ can break us apart, it doesn't make a difference what the world throws at us."

Silver eyes were aglow with confidence.

"So long as we're alive, we will always be friends."

For a moment, the three girls held each other's hands and a bottle of perfume.

The scene could be described as heartwarming, perhaps even melting.

Then Penny noticed Ruby's hands and glanced down at her feet.

"Ruby?" she began politely.

"Yeah Penny?"

"I believe Zwei is trying to pee on me again."

"FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" Ruby released the handholding and tackled the corgi. "I take my eyes off of you for _one second_ and right back into trouble you go!"

"Well," Blake sighed, "that moment was nice while it lasted. Come here, let me put this perfume on you and maybe Zwei will be fooled."

Mimicking Blake's previous demonstration, Penny lifted her chin and let the faunus spray the fragrant liquid around her throat. Her hands traced the shape of her neck, massaging the perfume into her synthetic skin. Then she dabbed the remainder behind her ears and across her wrists.

Holding her fingers to her nose, Penny stated, "This smells like lavender. I love it."

Blake advised, "You should buy your own perfume and wear it before coming to Beacon. There's a lot of faunus students here, so be careful."

The mechanical girl approached Ruby and Zwei and knelt on the floor. A nervous hand extended toward the corgi. He nuzzled his nose against her hand, then licked her palm. She began to gently brush Zwei's fur coat with both hands. His tail was wagging like a spring doorstopper.

Penny positively squealed in delight.

Returning to her dresser, Blake removed a set clothes and carried them into the bathroom. She emerged minutes later, wearing her normal black and white combat attire. After returning her school uniform to her dresser, she retrieved Gambol Shroud and strapped it across her back. Without speaking, the faunus walked to the dorm room door.

"Where're you going?" Ruby asked. She was sitting with Penny, competing against her on who could give Zwei the most belly rubs. The dog's tongue was hanging out of his mouth in pleasure.

"Out to find your sister." Blake replied as she grabbed the door handle. "I want to bring her back now, rather than later. I'm taking Gambol in case I need to fight her in the gym again."

Penny piped up, "Yang is not on Beacon's grounds. Ruby and I already searched. I can check where to find her though."

Pausing in front of the door, Blake watched as Penny closed her eyes and tilted her head. Humming a pleasant tune, she turned her orange crown slowly. Her hands never left the dog's warm belly.

Blake spoke wryly at her team leader, "You're like a magnet for _interesting_ people."

"It's a curse." Ruby shrugged.

"Yang has stopped at Third Street, just off the corner of Drummond and Superior Road." Penny provided.

Staring out the window at the darkening sky, Ruby spoke anxiously, "I really hope she hasn't lost track of time again. She needs to hurry back before curfew."

Blake quickly punched the address into her scroll. "There's still enough time. If I can find her bike, I'll find her. I will bring Yang back before curfew, even if I have to drag her by her hair. Then we're going to have a long talk with her about what's been going on."

She smiled encouragingly at Ruby.

"I promise you, we're going to get your sister back to normal _tonight."_

Then Blake opened the door and stepped into the hall. As soon as the door closed behind her, she broke into a full run.

Grim thoughts occupied her mind, _"I just hope Yang isn't doing anything stupid."_

" _Like picking fights with gangs."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fluffy chapter, because the next set of chapters is not going to be pleasant. The next chapter is one you've all been waiting for.


	25. From the Brink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girl with abandonment issues and a girl who runs from her problems. Sounds like a recipe for disaster.

Yang was currently picking fights with gangs.

Her boot slammed into the teeth of another gangbanger and sent him tumbling. The sound of a gun cocking came from behind. Spinning around, Yang swung _Zhīshì_ into the gunman’s stomach. He folded like a sheet of tinfoil and flew backwards with enough force to break through two weak walls in a row.

**_CRACK! SNAP!_ **

Ducking down, the dragoness dodged a blade aimed at her exposed spine. Then she turned to face the latest assailant and punched his chin with a fierce uppercut. The swordsman slammed into the ceiling. His body fell to the floor along with a shower of broken debris.

The air was thick with the stench of crumbling plaster and poor life decisions. She could hear more gang members approaching. The sound of boots stomping came to a halt just outside of the door. Frantic whispers drifted through the thin wood. Yang counted five separate rifles locking and loading.

Heartbeat hastening, her veins flooded with ravenous flames. The golden strands that flowed from her crown began to glow with brighter intensity. Crimson eyes burned behind the furious Nevermore mask.

She was in _no_ mood to wait for them to come to her.

Doubling over, Yang tackled straight through the door. It shattered into wooden fragments as though it had been hit with a breaching charge.

**_BANG!_ **

Just beyond was a narrow hallway, scarcely wide enough for two people and just tall enough to let a seven-foot man hit his head on the ceiling. One of the hooligans was standing directly in her path. His open mouthed expression was priceless. She bodily slammed into the unfortunate ruffian and carried him to the opposite wall. He flattened against the wall hard enough to expel all the air from his lungs.

She grabbed his shoulders and spun around, maneuvering his body between her and the other thugs. Four guns pointed at her, but none of them fired in fear of hitting their accomplice.

Hesitation sealed their fates.

Kicking her body shield at two of the gunmen, the bruiser bum-rushed the other two. They didn’t even shoot their guns before she grabbed their skulls in both of her hands and slammed them together with a sickening _crack._ They sank to the floor like puppets with their strings severed.

More and more enemies appeared at opposite ends hallway. They held up melee weapons and rushed both of Yang’s sides. _Zhīshì_ converted to a rocket launcher and fired a screaming missiles toward one of the inbound groups. Then she quickly turned and launched a second missile at the opposite horde. The warheads detonated on the floorboards, demolishing the rotten and aged wood below. She could feel the floor shaking beneath her boots as a domino effect of breaking support beams spelled the end of structural integrity.

Yang held _Zhīshì_ above her head and it returned to its melee form. Fire rolled down her shoulders, igniting the very air around her. Roaring at the top of her lungs, she slammed the bludgeon onto the ground.

With a deafening splintering, the surface beneath Yang and the mooks caved in. Darkness swallowed her whole. She projected her Aura to shield her from the falling debris. Her boots hit the floor below and her knees pistoned into her chest.

“Oooof!” she expulsed as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Her diaphragm was paralyzed. Yang dropped to her knees. Her Nevermore mask slipped and clattered on the floor. For a moment, she simply focused on reflating her lungs. When she could finally inhale a breath, she picked up the monstrous visage and donned her face once more.

Ears were ringing painfully and everything in her vision swayed like a pendulum. Staggering to her feet, she shook her burning crown to clear her dazed mind. As the world gradually stabilized, she took in her immediate surroundings. When Yang dropped the floor above to the floor below, she had landed in another equally claustrophobic hallway.

Sparks of electricity showered from dangling severed wires. All of the lightbulbs in the hallway had ceased functioning. There was no illumination, except the golden radiance emanating from the luminescent dragoness herself. Choking clouds of crumbled plaster hung in the air, obstructing visibility. She could only see five feet in every direction, everything further was lost in shadows. Washed out paint and boarded up doors lined the hall. The ceiling above had completely collapsed, leaving hardwood beams and broken metal pipes scattered on the floor.

The sound of groans echoed from the darkened passage. Apparently, Yang wasn’t the only one who remained conscious after falling a full floor straight down. Reaching behind her, she took out _Zhīshì_ and prepared for the next wave of attackers.

A brilliant explosion of sparks lightened the hallway, briefly revealing an approaching group of gun-wielding thugs. Then the sparks died, leaving the hallway as black as night.

Stumbling over the debris, a gangster with a scimitar came charging into Yang’s small circle of light. He brought the razor sharp edge down upon her crown, but she quickly backhanded the flat of the blade. The weapon embedded into the wall beside her. _Zhīshì_ slammed into his stomach and sent him flying down the narrow hallway. His unconscious body careened into the inbound cluster of gunmen. They tumbled to the cheap carpet, a mass of tangled legs, arms, and firearms. Loud swears echoed off peeling wallpaper.

Someone slammed into her back and a pair of rough hands wrapped around her throat. Yang doubled over, hoisting the thug off his feet. Then she pivoted to the side and kicked off the wall in front of her. She hurtled in reverse and the thug’s spine crashed through a boarded up door.

With an earsplitting **_CRACK_** , the door shattered into splinters and the two fighters fell backwards into the room beyond. Landing on top of her assailant and dropping her elbow into his stomach proved enough to loosen the stranglehold on her neck. She scrambled to her feet, then stomped the man’s head into the floor for good measure.

A shabby window let moonlight in the room. Crimson eyes swept around, quickly taking inventory of its contents. No people. No furniture. Just weaponry. Racks of weapons lined the walls. Shotguns and rifles, blades and bludgeons, grenades and ammo crates.

 _“Finally found the weapons stash.”_ Yang crowed internally.

Angry voices yelled from down the hall.

“She’s in there!”

“The Grimm Fake fell in here!”

Yang swore that if she ever saw Rogue Froideur again, she was going to break his legs.

Sheathing the five-foot metal baseball bat, the blonde brawler prepared to end this fight. First she picked up the unconscious man on the floor by his jacket and casually tossed him through the door.

“If I were you guys, I’d pick up my beaten friends and start running away!” Yang shouted. “You made a mistake cramming so many weapons in one place!”

Anxious voices came from just outside the doorway.

“Shit, she’s in the armory!”

“What’s that fake think she’s doing?”

“Help me pick up these guys! We can’t leave them! This crazy bitch could do _anything!”_

She quickly reached the pile of grenades and picked up an incendiary bomb. Yang ripped off the top of a wooden crate, exposing boxes of bullets inside.

“In case you didn’t know,” the dragoness declared, “uncontrolled fire and ammo boxes _really_ don’t mix!”

Gripping the fire Dust grenade in one hand, Yang made sure to keep a firm grip on the safety lever. Then she hooked her finger in the pin ring and yanked.

_Ping._

“And _that_ was the sound of me pulling the pin on _this_ fire Dust grenade.”

She was met with silence. Then a chorus of vulgar exclamations,

“Oh shit!”

“That _bitch!”_

“Help me carry these guys! We gotta book!”

“Go, go, go!”

Yang heard noises like people picking up unconscious bodies. She started slowly counting down.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Fuck it.

Her hand relaxed and released the combustible explosive. Then she spun around and ran as fast as he could, straight toward the open window.

* * *

Blake stood beside Yang’s bike, the Bumblebee, in a dirty street alleyway. A gentle breeze wafted past black locks, sifting through soft strands like velvety curtains. The air carried a familiar scent, that of her current prey. Her arms crossed and amber eyes closed, she weighed her options while muttering beneath her breath.

“Yang, where could you be?”

The feline faunus pondered on whether she should search for her hardheaded partner in the city block around, or stay by the motorcycle and wait for her to return. Yang _had_ to be around here, but the trail was nearly cold and it was entirely possible that Blake could miss her when she returned. But there was no guarantee that Yang would be back anytime soon, and she had a promise to keep.

That’s when she heard a tremendous explosion in the distance. The sound of gunfire filled the night, followed by angry shouting and wailing police sirens.

“Ah, there you are.”

* * *

The blast wave struck Yang in the back just as she was diving through the window. It was like being slapped by a gigantic hand. She felt the wind get knocked out of her for the second time. Vision tunneled until there was only a pinprick of light remaining. Squeezing her eyes shut, she called upon what remained of her Aura to form a protective cocoon. Finally, she curled into a tight ball and prayed for a soft landing.

Heat and flames engulfed the dragoness. She had enough experience with both to know that she was _not_ fireproof.

Somersaulting through the air like a blazing ragdoll, Yang couldn’t tell up from down. Cracking her eyes open, she peered between her knees and arms. The world spun around her in a nauseating kaleidoscope of glowing orange and deep dark blue. Had she been wearing Ember Celica, she could have possibly fired a volley of rounds fast enough to stabilize her flight. Unfortunately, her shotgun-gauntlets were currently waiting for her back at Junior’s nightclub.

Yang saw her landing zone an instant before she slammed into it. The impact jostled every joint in her body. Her teeth rattled together. It felt like electrified needles were drilling through her jaw. Without slowing, her body bounced and slid along rough brick. Her knees dragged across the abrasive surface until she tucked into a roll. Evenly distributing the damage was the best bet to coming out of this marginally unscathed.

Finally, the rollercoaster came to a halt and the blonde laid flat on her back. She reached up and tore the mask off, letting cool night air wash across her sweltering face. Every breath was like a scorching sword stabbing into her side. Her entire body was a roadmap of agony. Her knees were grated bloody, elbows were stinging sorely, ears were ringing excruciatingly, skull was pounding like a drum, and every solitary vertebra in her spine ached. Soaked bone deep in pain, Yang stared up at the moonlit sky and grinned.

 _“This is what it feels like to be_ fucking _alive.”_

The distinct odor of burning fabric wafted into her nostrils. Springing to her feet, she quickly began to swat at the lingering flames that clung to her clothes. The raven feather garland was beyond saving, so it was ripped off and cast aside. The crimson skirt around her hips was left with black scorch marks.

Once her clothes were extinguished, she finally took a look around to see where she had landed.  There was a noticeable depression surrounded by jagged cracks. Had she dropped much lower, Yang would have smashed against the side of the building instead of landing on the roof. Her bones would likely be paste. A streak of red leading from the crater reminded her of the pain in her knees. She could feel her Aura staunching the blood flow and mending her shredded skin.

That didn’t stop it from hurting like a _bitch._

She knelt down and picked the mask off the ground. Then she placed it on her face and stepped to the edge of the roof. As soon as Yang realized where she was, her mouth dropped open. The criminal hideout that she had just destroyed was on the other side of the road. The explosion had launched her so far through the air that she had flown clear over the street below.

Standing on the brink, Yang gazed at the den she had exited via defenestration. The entire floor was engulfed in enormous flames that erupted from the windows. Voracious tongues of fire licked up the sides of the building. Sparks jettisoned from the inferno, dancing in the air like glowing flower petals. Tar-black smoke clouds rolled upward, blotting out the cityscape. The whole structure would be devoured by flames before the firefighters could even arrive. Groups of thugs poured out of the burning building like rats from a sinking boat. Some of them were carrying unconscious bodies.

The heat from the fire swept past the Ancient Nevermore mask. Sun kissed tresses sailed on blistering winds as Yang stood on the edge of the roof. Radiant orange embers soared toward the starlit sky, forming fleeting constellations above her crown. The light from the firestorm was bright enough to throw her shadow far behind her back.

So engrossed was she, listening to the roaring flames, that Yang didn’t hear someone join her on the roof.

* * *

Blake reached the rooftop and emerged behind a woman with familiar golden hair. Citrine eyes flitted between the blonde and the blazing inferno. She could feel the heat on her face, even at this distance. The fragrant smell of burning wood filled her sensitive nose.

The woman’s frame was silhouetted against the flickering conflagration. Blake crept behind her, keeping within the deep shadow she cast. Her boots made no sound as she approached, a technique learned from a lifetime of concealing herself from detection. With a start, the faunus realized that this person was _not_ dressed like Yang. Instead of the leather biker gear, the woman was adorned with a dark _kimono_ with a scarlet sash. Furthermore, Ember Celica was not on her wrists. Instead, there was a metal tube strapped across her lower back.

Unease coiled in her stomach like a restless snake. Reflexively, her hand drifted toward Gambol Shroud.

She called out, “Yang? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

* * *

Yang heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Yang? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

Without thinking, she faced the speaker.

* * *

The blonde haired woman abruptly turned around.

A ghastly mask of Grimm obscured her face.

Crimson burned like fire behind the visage.

Every fiber of Blake’s body froze like ice.

Feline ears flattened to her crown.

Her heart stopped beating.

Amber eyes grew wide.

She couldn’t breathe.

Teeth clenched.

“White Fang.”

Blake’s body responded faster than her mind. In an instant, she gripped Gambol and drew the two-foot _katana_ from Shroud. The stygian sword rasped as it was extracted. Shroud’s razor edge hissed as she held the sharpened sheath like a cleaver. Wielding Gambol in one hand and Shroud in the other, Blake fell into a fighting stance.

Gambol collapsed upon itself and a gun muzzle emerged from beneath the blade. Then a recent upgrade revealed itself, a built-in silencer which extended from the barrel. Blake leveled the handgun at the White Fang. The woman was frozen completely still, making it shockingly easy to land a bead on her head.

She squeezed the trigger.

Gambol fired as silent as a murmur.

The White Fang dropped to her bloody knees and rolled beneath the path of the bullet. She reached behind her back and pulled out her weapon. It telescoped into the shape of a five-foot long baseball bat.

Blake leaped into the air toward her adversary.

She slashed Shroud at the masked terrorist’s eyes.

People generally have a reaction to attacks directed at their eyeballs. A regular person who witnesses a fast-moving object heading for their face will flinch in surprise. Even battle-hardened Hunters may instinctively project their Aura around their skulls in a desperate attempt to protect the soft spherical organs. But by strengthening their Aura in one area, they simultaneously weaken their Aura around the rest of their body. Two-pronged attacks are effective against Huntsmen and Huntresses for this very reason. When they focus on the first attack they can see, then secondary strikes can slip beneath their Aura.

Even as Shroud slashed at the White Fang’s mask, Gambol’s blade unfolded and stabbed toward her exposed stomach.

The enemy held her baseball bat vertically in both hands.

Shroud glanced off the barrel of the bludgeon.

Gambol’s blade was deflected by the handle.

Both attacks were repelled by a single defense.

 _“This woman is_ good!” Blake was loath to admit.

Slamming her feet into the club, the faunus kicked off her opponent’s weapon and sent her stumbling back toward the edge of the roof. Blake flipped through the air gracefully and landed on all fours. The White Fang skidded in reverse until her heels were hanging off the brink. She flailed her hands wildly as she teetered back and forth, half on the roof and half over the street.

_“Don’t let up!”_

Kicking off the ground, Blake closed the distance between them in an instant. Her _katana_ plunged toward the helpless White Fang’s throat.

A familiar voice screamed.

“Blake! Stop!”

Gambol halted in mid-attack, the razor tip directly beneath the White Fang’s chin. From behind the mask, fearful lilac met angry amber. Blake sucked in a sharp breath as realization dawned upon her.

The blonde began to topple backwards. Blake seized the woman’s collar with one hand and planted her feet wide apart. She grunted in exertion as she pulled her opponent back onto the roof. Without waiting a second, the other hand roughly grabbed the grim facade and ripped it away.

Yang stared back fearfully.

Blake’s eyes traded between her partner and the mask in her hand. A pained expression passed over her face. She looked like she had just been punched in the stomach. Brunette eyebrows gathered into knots. Fingers balled into tight fists. Gritting her teeth, she flung the blonde and slammed her bodily on the rooftop.

“What,” Blake seethed through clenched fangs, “the hell,” eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, “are you doing, _Yang?!”_ she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Groaning, Yang picked herself up and faced her livid partner.

“Blake,” she wheezed, “this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh? It’s not?” Blake growled, “Do you even _know_ what it looks like?”

Her hand swept back toward the burning building behind her.

“Because, what it looks like is that my partner is committing acts of _terrorism_ …”

She held the Grimm mask above her head and threw it at Yang’s feet. It bounced off the floor with a sharp _crack._

“…while wearing _the mask of **terrorists!”**_

Yang staggered back.

Horrified, “No! That’s not what’s happening at all! Those guys in the building weren’t innocent civilians, but criminals! It was an illegal weapon stash. That’s why I destroyed it! The reason it’s burning so fast is because I set off an incendiary grenade, along with crates of Dust bullets!”

Blake stood in silent consideration. Then she spoke in a low voice, “Dust bullets? I guess that explains the gunfire I heard earlier.”

“Right! I’m _not_ doing the same thing as the White Fang!” Yang insisted.

“Well, then why are you wearing a mask of the White Fang?” The faunus shouted. “Why are you dressed like that? Tell me what’s going on!”

Lilacs wilted and reduced to burning red carnations. Flickering flames flowed along her golden hair. Her voice was as hard as tempered steel, “This is something I _need_ to do.”

“What is it? What are you _doing?!”_ Blake cried out frantically.

Yang jabbed her thumb into her chest. “I’m handling it by myself.”

Yelling in frustration, “Are you?!” Blake thrust a finger at the mask on the ground, “Because _that_ does not look like you’re _handling it!”_

“It’s part of the plan!” The dragoness growled.

Shaking her brunette crown, “Is that supposed to comfort me? Because it _doesn’t._ You are getting worse! You are spiraling _out of control!_ ”

“I’m in _complete_ _control!”_ Yang thundered.

“Like _hell_ you are!” Blake screamed. “You’re rampaging around the city, getting into fights for _no good reason, and coming home **bruised and bloody!**_ If that’s part of your plan, then _you’re even worse than **I ever thought possible!**_ You’re so far out of control that I can’t _even understand **anything you say!”**_

Yang stomped on the roof hard enough to splinter the surface. A blistering gale swirled around, casting dust in the air. She stood in the center of a growing blaze and roared, “You don’t _need to **understand me!** _ You just _need to **trust me!”**_

“No! I _don’t!”_ Blake bellowed.

The scorching winds ceased in an instant. Yang stared at Blake with wide eyes.

“I don’t trust you! I can’t trust you! You’ve let anger take control of you! The last time I placed my trust someone who wore the mask of hatred, I lost myself to hatred too!”

Frozen, the golden Huntress could only stand still as Blake screamed.

“It’s happening all over again, just the same as before! My partner is shutting me out, refusing to see reason, growing angrier all the time, and finally _wearing that **goddamn mask!”**_

Yang remained as motionless as a statue.

“I thought things would change with a different partner! I thought that _you_ would be different! But you’re _not!_ You’re so much like _him!_ Hot tempered and bullheaded beyond belief! As soon as you set out on a path, _absolutely nothing_ can change your mind!”

She pointed an accusing finger at Yang.

“Well I’ve already seen where this path goes. I’ve lived there for so much of my life!”

Blake shook her head. Dark locks swirled around her crown like an angry tornado. She stomped the ground, grinding the gravel beneath her heel.

_crunch_

“I can’t…”

**_crunch_ **

“I won’t…”

**_CRUNCH_ **

_“I refuse to follow **anyone**_ down that path again! Walking that road _nearly cost me **my soul!”**_

Blake’s chin fell to her chest. She gripped her shoulders tightly. Her words cracked.

“It was the most agonizing thing I’ve ever done, liberating myself from the toxic influences around me. But once I was finally free, I finally felt like myself for the first time in so long! It was like I could finally breathe again.”

She sucked down a shaky lungful of air.

“It was then that I made a promise to myself, that I would never let anyone drag me down again. In the end, I decided that my biggest mistake was _not leaving sooner._ ”

Bitterness saturated her words.

“Now it’s happening all over again, all the signs are there. You’re turning out just like him. I can’t bear the sight of watching another person I care about fall into darkness. I won’t watch history repeat itself. I refuse to make the _same mistake again.”_

Yang asked softly, “Blake… what are you saying?”

Blake chewed her lower lip in silence. She squeezed her shoulders until her knuckles blanched.

Voice quavering, “I—I have _tried_ to help you. I have _tri—tried_ to pull you off this path. But it hasn’t worked, and you _refuse_ to let anyone talk reason to you. It’s clear now that there’s nothing more I can do here. You aren’t going back to the way you were, not even when your sister begs you.”

She stepped backwards.

“Please, don’t do this…” Yang sounded brittle.

Blake took another step back. Tears rolled down her face as she sobbed, “I—I wish I hadn’t picked you to be my partner. Maybe you would have found someone stronger. M—maybe another person c—could have saved you. But I can’t. I’m too—too much of a c—coward.”

Another foot retreated. And then another.

“I’m sorry!” Yang blurted out desperately. “Please believe me! I’m _sorry!”_

The faunus didn’t falter. “It’s too late. _He_ used to apologize too, for everything he said that he had to do. But he didn’t stop. All he did was stop saying sorry.”

Yang’s feet remained fixed in place. Her hand reached toward her friend.

Blake turned away. _“That’s exactly same thing that I saw Adam do.”_

She reached the opposite side of the rooftop, the end of the line.

_“Yang wasn’t my first partner, but she will probably be my last.”_

Eyes gazed over the edge. There would be no coming back.

Desolation churned in her heart, dread of total isolation.

Closing amber eyes, she prepared to leave it all behind.

_“I’m sorry, Ruby. I couldn’t keep my promise to you.”_

For the second time, she would forsake her family.

Sighing solemnly, she whispered, “Goodbye.”

Yang burst into hot tears and screamed,

“PLEASE DON’T ABANDON ME!”

Breath catching in her throat, Blake willed herself to leap off the brink. To run away, and keep running into an uncertain future. To disappear in the wind.

But she couldn’t.

The weight in her chest kept her rooted to the ground. She simply couldn’t bear the concept being all alone in the world once more. To lose _everything_ all over again was a thought too terrible to endure. Her eyes filled with tears. She clenched a fist over her breast. Ruby, Weiss, and even Yang. The pain of never seeing them again was like ripping out her own heart.

Blake had a choice before her. She could either give into fear of watching Yang become another Adam, and run away from the friends who love her.

Or

she could try to save her partner

one last time.

Squeezing her hands together, Blake turned around. Yang was kneeling on the ground, hands over her eyes. Her shoulders quaked as she sobbed hysterically. Broken whispers of “please don’t go” wafted into feline ears.

Adam never shed a tear for his sins.

Mind made up, the faunus marched back toward Yang. As she approached, she could feel the temperature rising radically around the dragoness. The air rippled like a mirage. Heat pricked at her forehead. Perspiration trickled down her face and neck.

 _“This is a fight that I will_ not _run from!”_ she set her jaw resolutely.

Standing over Yang’s boiling hot body, Blake opened her mouth and declared.

“Give me a reason!”

Bleary carnations rose up to meet determined ocher.

“Give me a reason.” she repeated softer. “Tell me what has happened to make you this way.”

“I—I’m so sorry!” Yang bawled miserably. She grabbed her head between both hands and squeezed, as if trying to crush her skull. The blonde lamented, “I’m just so—so _goddamn angry_ **_all the time_** _and_ _I can’t stop it!_ I’ve been trying to keep it stored in my oasis! But it keeps breaking out faster than I can bottle it in!”

“But _why?”_ Blake dropped to her knees and grabbed Yang’s hands. They felt hot, like a burning stove top. She could feel her skin baking. Grimacing in pain, “Why are you so angry?”

Face contorting in agony, “It—it’s like s—s—she just poured hot lava in my belly… and it’s burning through my stomach lining.” Yang doubled over, “I’m just so angry and it hurts so much…”

Blake brought her face close to Yang’s. It was like being directly in front of a blacksmith’s forge.

Begging anxiously, “Who is _she?_ Who did this to you?!”

Feline eyes searched draconian orbs. Once again, a war was being waged within Yang’s mind.

Scarlet and lilacs clashed in her eyes. Every time the color red was about to overpower purple, Blake’s heart leaped into her throat.

Squeezing Yang’s calloused hands, she said one last heartfelt plea, “Please! I don’t want to lose another friend!”

Yang froze. Every muscle in her body was tense as coiled steel. She sucked in a shuddering breath and held it. Blonde eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Her chin fell to her chest. It was as though she had suddenly begun to meditate.

Neither girl breathed.

Golden flames burned out.

Cool nighttime air washed upon Blake’s sweat-slicked brow.

Then,

the dragoness lifted her crown.

Amethysts met amber.

“I found her.”

Yang whispered in a voice full of anguish.

“I found my mother.”


	26. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Opening up and accepting help takes a special king of strength.

Blake leaned against Bumblebee and crossed her arms pensively. She was waiting in a darkened alleyway behind a shady nightspot called _The Cub's Club._ Leaking bags of garbage were thrown haphazardly in a pile, adding to the repulsive stink of city sewage and urine. The constant assault on her sensitive nose soured the faunus' mood even more than it already was.

Yang had gone inside through a back door, carrying the mask of Grimm and that baseball bat with her. She said that the items belonged to the club owner, an equally shady man named Hei "Junior" Xiong. Apparently he was the one supporting Yang's fight against gangs. Frowning, Blake considered marching in there and giving this Junior a piece of her mind.

But instead seeking immediate satisfaction, the brooding brunette lowered her bow topped crown and thought back to Yang's confession.

* * *

"You found your mother?", Blake's eyes widened. She could scarcely believe her ears, all four of them. The past few days, the faunus has been trying to figure out what was causing Yang to act out. But nothing could have prepared her for the answer.

"When did this happen? Where did you meet her? Who is she? Did you two talk?" Questions tumbled out of her mouth one after the other.

Yang wiped at the corner of her eyes with the heel of her palms. They were puffy and red, but she had ceased crying. For a moment, she remained silent. Her breathing gradually steadied and her sniffles quieted. With a soft grunt, she sat up and crossed her legs in front of her.

Both girls were sitting on a gravel rooftop. Across the street was an apartment building engulfed in flames, as though some infernal beast had been unleashed within. The crackle and snap of a roaring fire, courtesy of Yang, filled the air. Smoke from the inferno rose up and blotted out half of the moonlit sky.

Watery amethysts met with curious citrine. When she spoke, her voice wobbled only slightly. "I first saw her on the train."

If Blake hadn't already been on the ground, then that revelation would have put her there. "What?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "How could you keep this from us?"

"I _didn't know_ she was my mom. I've only ever seen old photos of her." Yang reached beside her and picked up the mask of Grimm. She held the ominous visage in her hands. "Plus, on the train, she was wearing a mask just like this one."

Blake stared at the mask. There was _something_ about it that seemed frightfully familiar. A dreadful sensation stirred in the back of her mind; like the lingering memory of a long-forgotten nightmare. She inquired cautiously, "What exactly happened?"

Grimacing, "I _may_ not have been completely honest with you guys on how bad my fight with Neo went."

Yang averted her face away. "See, Neo was planning on killing me as I was laying on the floor. I couldn't move or open my eyes. But then my mother appeared and she drove that ice-cream bitch away. When I could finally wake up, I managed to catch a glimpse of her just before she disappeared."

"You nearly lost your life." Blake's voice sounded hollow to her ears. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what would have happened. Even attempting to imagine the outcome caused her heart to cave in.

Still facing away, "That's why I didn't say anything. I didn't want to scare Ruby. If she knew how close I came to dying, then she'd use her authority to keep me from going on any dangerous missions."

"Maybe you shouldn't be going on dangerous missions!" Blake argued, her voice rising. She slammed her fist on the rooftop and ranted, "It was reckless of you to try and fight Neo by yourself! Your callous disregard for your own safety nearly got you killed!"

Yang turned to stare Blake straight in the eyes. "I'm her older sister. It's _my_ job to keep _her_ safe, not the other way around."

Rising to her feet, the dragoness towered over her partner. "She needs me to be a pillar of strength. If Ruby loses her faith in me, then what good am I to her?"

Meeting the hard gaze, "You're no good to her _dead."_

"What's done is _done."_ Yang stated firmly. "I didn't die, so just drop it."

Their eyes battled momentarily. Then Blake made a frustrated noise with her throat. She ground the heel of her palm against her forehead and sighed, "Alright, _fine._ But would it kill you to try and show some regard for your own safety? It's like you're always biting off more than you can chew."

Yang flashed her a quick grin, "You don't need to worry about me. I've got a pretty big mouth, ya know?" Upon seeing the feline's deepening frown, she hastily threw her hands up in surrender. "But—but—but you're right, I should learn to take smaller bites."

Blake nodded her head. Then she questioned, "Your mother was on the train? I didn't see any masked women after the wreck. How could she have escaped the Grimm infested tunnels?"

"Uh… actually, she teleported off the train before it broke into Vale."

The badgering feeling in the back of Blake's mind grew stronger. Her eyes locked on the mask in Yang's hands. Then she carefully observed the black and crimson garb that the blonde bruiser was dressed in. Puzzle pieces were dropping into place, one by one. A mental image was beginning to form. Her stomach sank as though it were filled with concrete.

"Teleported?" she asked.

"Yeah," Yang confirmed, "her Semblance is to make big red and black portals."

Realization struck Blake like a megaton meteorite. The world reeled in wide circles before her eyes. She felt lightheaded. Her mouth became as dry as a desert. Breaths came in short supply.

"Yang?" she began dizzily, "Who exactly is your mother?"

"Her name is Raven Branwen." Yang scratched her cheek, "But I guess she's most commonly known as the Grimm Reaper."

Silence.

"Blake?"

More silence.

"Have you heard of her?"

* * *

Back in the present, Blake slapped both hands over her mouth and screamed both externally and internally. High pitched distressed noises leaked from behind her palms. She mentally cried out in disbelief, _"How in the_ hell _did I manage to become partners with the daughter of the most terrifying individual on the whole godforsaken planet?!"_

In short, the answer was yes. Blake has most certainly heard of the Grimm Reaper.

Even before Adam's takeover and subsequent fall into corruption, the White Fang had ties to the criminal underworld. They would work with local gangs, as well as pay information brokers, in order to learn the locations of faunus populated plantations. Then the White Fang would send operatives out on missions with the intent on gathering evidence against ethically challenged corporations.

Blake remembered being tasked with taking photographs of the poor working conditions that the faunus slaves were subjected to. She had various memories of trespassing onto corporate owned property with bolt cutters in her hands and a camera slung around her neck. It was dangerous work. Often there were armed guards and canines patrolling these facilities. She could recall times where she ended up running away at full speed, being chased by baying hounds, speciesist slurs, and gunfire. Over the years, the young feline honed her stealth capabilities out of necessity.

Growing up surrounded by criminals and felons, it was impossible to avoid the subject of the Reaper. Accounts were whispered like campfire stories. Tales of an unstoppable inhuman entity who could stride through bullet storms without slowing, who could slay thousands in a single night, who could appear anywhere and anytime without any warning. The stories only became more extravagant as they were repeated. The Reaper was the criminal equivalent to the Boogeyman.

The first time Blake saw captured footage of the Grimm Reaper in action, the sight was burned into her eyes. Butchered bodies, dismembered limbs, eviscerated corpses, and the blood. _So much blood._ In the midst of it all, a pitch black shape with a white face was swinging a sanguine-soaked sword. Unholy crimson orbs glared from beyond the screen. Hatred burned like coals in an inferno. They promised pain and death to everyone in their sight. Those eyes stared into Blake's very soul. The young girl screamed in terror.

A White Fang member by the name of Tukson quickly stopped the video and escorted her to bed. While being tucked in, she asked Tukson if the Reaper would come for her. The puma faunus reassured her that the Reaper only hunted killers and other monsters. He said that the Reaper has never taken the life of a child.

She asked him if the Reaper was a good guy. Tukson had no answer for her.

The young cat faunus was plagued with nightmares for weeks.

In contrast, it seemed as though Adam Taurus _admired_ the Grimm Reaper. The young boy was impressed by the effect she had on the criminal community. _Look Blake,_ he would say, _grown humans quaking in fear of her. They're too afraid to even speak her name!_ Adam picked up a stick and swung it like a sword. _Imagine what it would be like to be feared as she is. Just the sight of that mask is enough to make humans run away._ The smile on his face made Blake uneasy.

Shaking her head, Blake cleared away childhood memories.

Yang had not yet returned from _The Cub's Club_. A quick glance at her scroll revealed that time was running short. Curfew was coming. It would be a close call even if they rode Bumblebee back to Beacon Academy.

Blake thought back to Yang's disclosure. After revealing her heritage, Yang went on to describe meeting Raven two more times.

* * *

"You must think I'm crazy." Yang moaned hopelessly, clawing her fingers through her hair.

"Meeting your mother in a dreamland?" Blake tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice. "That's a pretty tall tale."

"I know, I know!" She pulled at blonde strands in frustration. "But you've gotta believe me! I'm _not_ lying and I'm _not_ crazy!"

Silence stretched between them.

Amber eyes regarded the distressed Huntress.

After a while, she spoke slowly, "There are numerous fairy tales and mythological stories where people meet one another in dreams. Maybe they have a basis in fact…?" Her voice trailed off at the end.

Snapping her fingers rapidly, Yang enthusiastically emphasized, "Yeah! Yeah! I read Ruby bedtime stories where heroes would dream about their loved ones before they even met them! Then they met in the real world and it was like they had always known each other. Maybe something like that can really happen?"

"Alright, alright. So your story isn't _that_ crazy because we live in a crazy world. And I suppose this explains why you kept activating your Semblance in your sleep too." Blake pondered aloud.

Yang's head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, I'm so on edge whenever I'm around Raven. I've never been this bad before, at least not since…" her voice trailed off. She stared off in the distance.

Blake reached for the Grimm mask and took it from Yang's hands. She held it carefully, as though it were a container with a toxic substance inside. "So, your plan was to fight bad guys while dressed as the Grimm Reaper, in order to get Raven's attention? You're luring her to you?"

"It's not a pretty plan," Yang admitted grimly, "but it's the only one I have. I _have_ to talk to Raven." Amethysts locked hard with amber, filled with resolve. "And I'm willing to do _anything_ to make it happen." She squeezed her fists until they shook. "I _need_ to talk to her"

Blake observed Yang, who was becoming visibly distraught.

When she spoke, her tone was understanding. "I have never known my parents. I don't even know whether they are dead or alive. Either they died and left me an orphan…" the brunette paused and stared vacantly off in the distance, "...or they simply left me. I prefer to believe the former to the latter. If I were to meet them, still alive and well, I would likely be very upset just like you are." Her eyes returned to Yang. "But I would still try and get to know them."

The blonde remained quiet.

"What I'm trying to say is," Blake struggled to find the words, "that I understand why you're doing _this."_ She held up the mask and peered through the eyeholes. "You want to find Raven again, and—and maybe try to understand her better. But…" she fidgeted anxiously with the mask, "...but I think that what you're doing is a bad idea. It seems pretty clear _why_ Raven left you as a baby. She has already told you that she's a dangerous person. She feels as though it would be unsafe for you to be around her."

Yang's golden crown dropped low. Rich locks fell over her shoulders.

"And maybe…" the feline faunus grimaced, "Maybe she's right? Raven sounds like she's very unstable, _and she's aware of it._ It might not be a good idea to keep hunting her, if she's so unhinged that she can't even trust herself. It may not be worth the danger, going after the Grimm Reaper."

A brittle voice murmured, "You're wrong."

Yang raised her head. Tears trembled in amethyst eyes. "That's not why I'm trying to find Raven. I haven't told you the whole story."

Wordlessly, Blake maintained her gaze at her partner.

"I haven't told you about the last part…"

Pain etched sharp lines into her face.

"Raven accidentally said something…"

Each torturous word was like a barbed wire being dragged out of her throat.

"…she said…"

Her face fell into her hands.

"…that she cost Summer her life…"

Blake froze as understanding crashed upon her like an ice cold tidal wave. She sucked in a deep lungful of air. It all became perfectly clear now, exactly why Yang had gone so far and ran herself ragged in her hunt for Raven.

"Oh my god…" she breathed.

* * *

_BANG!_

Gambol Shroud was already in Blake's hands before she realized that the sound she heard was a door being slammed shut. She saw Yang emerging from the nightclub, wearing her normal brown leather biker outfit. Ember Celica were back on her wrists. A motorcycle helmet was tucked beneath her arm.

Her boots dragged on the pavement as she approached Blake and Bumblebee. Eyes low and shoulders drooped, the brawler appeared worn and weary. She regarded Blake with tired eyes. Then she extended the helmet toward the faunus.

"Wear it." She mumbled.

Her words were so run down that it sounded like one word, "Wear't."

Blake took the helmet and set it over her crown. Unfortunately, it crushed her feline ears against her skull. While she adjusted the helmet's strap beneath her chin, Yang snapped yellow goggles over her eyes.

No words were exchanged as they mounted Bumblebee. Blake straddled the seat behind Yang and wrapped her arms around the blonde's bare stomach. She rested her head against the soft golden mane that flowed down Yang's back. Usually, Yang was pleasantly warm to the touch. But now the natural heat she emitted was missing. It was as if her fiery spirit had been extinguished. The dragoness had never felt so cold before.

The yellow and black motorcycle roared to life and launched toward the street. Blake tightened her grip around Yang.

As the city of Vale swept by, her mind traveled back to the discussion on the rooftop.

* * *

It had taken some time for Yang to calm down after her shocking revelation. She was resting in a sitting fetal position, knees drawn to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around her shins. The blonde's spine was curved sharp enough to hurt. Her eyes were pressed against her legs, golden hair draped lifelessly over her thighs.

Yang looked so small and vulnerable. She was a dragon forged from hardened steel. The pressure and heat was what made her strong. But now that she was cooled, her spirit was left stiff and brittle. At this point in the tempering process, she was at her most fragile.

Blake could do nothing but comb her fingers through her partner's long hair.

" _How hard must it have been for Yang to carry all this pain alone? To have her entire world torn upside down, and yet still keep it all to herself."_

Prolonged contact seemed to have an effect. Yang stirred. Then she lifted her head and rested her chin on her knees. Red-rimmed amethysts gazed emptily at the shattered Moon.

Blake tentatively broke the heavy atmosphere, "What do you plan to ask Raven, should you see her again?"

Yang's hands balled into fists. Her voice was low and harsh. "I'm going to demand answers, about what happened, about how Summer died."

"What if… Raven is somehow responsible for…"

Lilac bled into deep red. Yang started to breath heavier and heavier.

"If Raven was the one who killed Summer…"

She squeezed her fists so tight they began to tremble.

"If Raven is the reason why we grew up without a mom…"

Embers traced down golden strands. Blake quickly withdrew her hand from the growing flames.

"If Raven is the reason why Ruby visits a gravestone every year…"

Her entire body shook with unrelenting anger. She seethed through gritted teeth.

"Then there's _nothing_ between us. It means that the Grimm Reaper murdered _both_ of my mothers."

Wisps of steam rose from misty eyes.

"And I will _never_ forgive her."

* * *

Nighttime wind lashed at Blake's face, bringing her out of her reverie. She hadn't even been paying attention for the duration of the ride. Her natural feline balance allowed her to easily follow Yang's movements as she guided her motorcycle through traffic. Bumblebee rumbled loudly while the two Huntresses sped through the streets of Vale.

It came as no surprise that Yang was driving like a bat out of hell. She threaded between cars without a second thought, blew through red lights, and swerved around sharp turns at blinding speeds. Every minute was another car horn blare and explicative swear. If there was ever a chance that she could get in a collision, her only response was to _speed up._ On more than one occasion, the reckless blonde rode on the sidewalk just to get through an intersection faster.

Blake wordlessly apologized to all the pedestrians who had to dive out of the way.

On an ordinary night, Yang would hoot and holler while riding like a daredevil. She would cuss and swear loudly at law-abiding citizens in protest of their responsible driving. "Get off the road!" Yang would shout at motorists matching the speed limit. It was as though she were competing with her own motorcycle on who could make the most noise.

On top of that, Yang was usually looking in every direction except forward. She would repeatedly turn her head and start chatting to the person on her back seat, even while her passenger pleaded with her to watch the road. Other times Yang would start _browsing the Internet on her scroll_. It was an absolutely nail-biting experience, watching the carefree blonde as she looked up pictures of cute animals while riding through a busy intersection.

However, tonight was different compared to all the others. Yang was completely mute throughout the entire trip. She uttered not a word. Her eyes remained glued to the road, not even sparing a backward glance at her passenger. Blake almost wished that Yang would begin swearing.

With nothing to distract her from intrusive thoughts, she once again returned to the near past.

* * *

"Ruby can't know anything about this."

The pair of Huntresses were walking together down the street, taking a long detour toward the alleyway where Bumblebee was stashed away. Firetruck sirens gradually became quieter as they put distance between themselves and the inferno that Yang had started. An inky black column of smoke, painted in the colors of wildfire, was still visible rising over city roofs. The smoldering stench still clung to Yang's black and red garb, causing Blake's nose to wrinkle.

Every building they passed was in various stages of dilapidation and disrepair. Black iron bars over doors and boarded up windows discouraged possible intruders. The pavement was cracked and uneven. Litter scattered across the concrete and clogged the gutters. A neon sign cast an eerie light over the line of cars parked along the street. No other souls strode the streets.

Yang's tone of voice left no room for negotiation. Blake would try nonetheless.

"Why not?"

"Because this would _tear_ her apart," the blonde said firmly, "and I don't want to see that happen again."

"Don't you think that Ruby deserves to know about this? It is _her_ mother after all." Blake argued.

"Yes, and that's _exactly_ my point!" She insisted.

A moment passed in silent consideration. Then Blake's eyes narrowed sharply, "Does Ruby know that you two are half-sisters?"

"What? No!" Yang blurted. Then she quickly backtracked, "I mean—I mean—yes! Ruby knows that we aren't fully blooded sisters." Amethysts averted. "I… _kinda_ told her a long time ago."

"What do you mean by 'kinda', Yang? Did you or didn't you tell her?"

Shaking her head, Yang seemed to be struggling with herself. She rolled her shoulders and sucked in a sharp breath. Hands flexing anxiously, she finally exclaimed, "Yes! I told Ruby that we were half-sisters! I'm just not proud of the way I did it, _alright?!"_

Sensing a continuation to that sentence, the faunus remained silent and let her speak.

"Right after Summer died, I turned into an unholy terror." Eyes downcast, Yang dragged her feet, "I was so miserable and angry all the time, and I lashed out at everyone. I was always getting into fights at school and running away from home. All I wanted was to find _my_ mother."

Self-loathing strained her words. "Ruby didn't get it, why I kept saying that I needed to find _my_ mom. So I told her, I said it straight to her face. _We aren't real sisters!"_ Yang stomped her boots, adding a fresh crevice on the sidewalk. "That's what I said, that we weren't real sisters. I told her that her mommy was _dead_ and that mine was _still alive_. I yelled that _we weren't family_ and…" she stopped and ground her teeth together, "…I told her that Summer never loved me."

Before Blake could react, Yang was already yelling, "I _know_ that's not true! I know that Summer loved me as much as she did Ruby. But back then, I felt _betrayed_. Then I went and betrayed Ruby by telling her that, right to her face. I was upset and Ruby got upset and then Dad and Qrow both got really upset with me and _everything_ about that time is just _really_ hard to talk about! Okay?!"

Yang curled her hands into tight fists. She squeezed until her knuckles bleached. When she opened her hand, there were white half-crescent indents in her palms from her nails. They faded slowly.

"I was a _godawful_ sister to Ruby. I _still_ remember how horrible I felt when she started crying. It's like a stain that I'll never fully clean off."

"If it's any consolation," Blake interjected, "that was over a decade ago and I'm pretty sure that Ruby doesn't hold it against you. I have _never_ seen two sisters who love each other more dearly than you two. You might have said some regrettable things in the past, but the only one who remembers them is _you."_

"Thanks Blake." the blonde nodded with the ghost of a smile in appreciation before she resumed, "But that doesn't change my position. Ruby can't know anything about what's happening. Everything about that time is a horrid memory, and I don't want to drag that out for her."

Speaking earnestly, "Yang, I hate to break it to you, but Ruby isn't a little girl any longer."

"She still leaves cookie crumbs in her bed!"

Blake's eyes rolled, "And you talk with your mouth full. You're not exactly the patron saint of maturity either, so you're in no position to judge her. She's grown a lot, even in the time that I've known her. It's not right keeping this a secret from her!"

"I'm _not_ planning on keeping this a secret from her forever." Yang crossed her muscular arms. "I need to know what happened to Summer first _._ I have to be able to give her answers _before_ I open up old wounds. If I tell Ruby now _,_ then she'll be left with tons of new questions with no new answers. That wouldn't be right either. It would tear her apart, just like it did to me!"

They trudged along, listening to the sirens in the distance for a few minutes. Finally, curiosity compelled Blake to ask questions. Broaching the subject as delicately as she could, "Um… what answers _do_ you have? What _do_ you know about Summer and… her death?"

An explosive sigh erupted from Yang. When she answered, her words were sour, "Not _fucking_ much. Nobody knows what happened to Summer on her final mission, or what the mission was even about. All we were told was that Summer was KIA, and that was it."

Blake inquired, "Who told you that? Was it the people who gave Summer her last mission?"

"The Atlesian military, and yes." The dragoness spat brusquely.

Amber eyes widened slightly. "Summer's mission was for Atlas? Did they never disclose any details?"

"Nope." Yang bitterly snapped. "Apparently they don't have to declassify top secret missions until after twenty-five years have passed. We've gotten sweet _fuck all_ from the Atlesian military. No mission details, no location, and no autopsy report. We've got no answers, not a single one even after a decade."

Blake placed her hand on Yang's shoulder. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been, to try and move on without any closure."

"Yeah, it was hard for all of us."

Yang bowed her head.

"But it was hardest for Ruby. She wanted answers more than anyone. It hurt so much, watching her wander around the house aimlessly, bundled up in her red riding hood. I could hear her talking to herself, trying to figure it out in her head. Trying to figure out what could have possibly done it. What could have possibly killed her mommy."

Her expression crumbled as she fought back tears.

"She kept telling herself different stories, but hardly any of them had happy endings. Every time she made up a story that ended with Summer coming home, Ruby would sit down by the front door as if expecting her to walk through once again. She was so young and hopeful, she thought that Summer would come back home if only she prayed _h—hard_ enough."

She choked back a wretched sob.

Squeezing Yang's shoulder, Blake tried to say the first comforting platitude that came to mind. But her throat was closed tight.

* * *

With a start, Blake emerged from her memories. Yang steered her motorcycle into a multi-tiered parking garage, one specifically reserved for students of Beacon Academy. She was forced to slow down because of speed bumps staggered apart. The air was rich with the pungent stench of motor oil and dust fuel. Bright fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting equidistant pools of light. The rumble of Bumblebee's engine echoed off the gray concrete walls.

After leaving Bumblebee in the parking garage, Blake and Yang entered a lift that would take them up to Beacon Academy. They swiped both of their student ID's and the lift began to hover on anti-gravity propulsion. The elevator ride was as smooth as silk as it climbed higher and higher. Blake quickly checked the time, then sighed in relief. Less than ten minutes later and they would have missed curfew. So long as they were on school grounds, they would be safe from being disqualified from the Vytal Festival.

The lift _hummed_ gently beneath their feet as it ferried them over the Baum River that flowed from Beacon through Vale. Blake didn't dare to look down at the cold black water far below, instead she kept her eyes straight ahead at the approaching academy. Beacon's three-spired central tower cast an eerie green cone of light that swept over the campus. It was a strangely calming sight.

Yang leaned against the railing and stared out at the city. Urban lights reflected in those empty eyes. Her back was turned to Blake. A sullen silence settled over their shoulders, suffocating conversation in its cradle. They were both completely worn out. Mentally, physically, and emotionally drained. A deep-set fatigue weighed heavy their bones.

When they stepped off the lift, neither of them said a word.

When they walked side-by-side over the cobblestone path, neither of them said a word.

When they entered Beacon Academy's front gate, neither of them said a word.

When they traversed the long halls, neither of them said a word.

It wasn't until they arrived at the dormitories that Yang finally spoke for the first time since departing _The Cub's Club._

"I'm not stopping."

Blake gave her partner an aside glance as they traveled through the student sleeping quarters. The hall lights were dimmed and the soft crimson carpet cushioned their footsteps.

"I still need to find Raven. She's the only one who knows the truth about Summer. She's the only one with the answers Ruby needs to find _real_ closure. So, I'm not going to give up searching for her."

They rounded the last corner before Blake responded. " _We_ are not going to give up. You need to get it through your thick head that you're _not_ alone in this any longer." She strode alongside her partner in sync, "You have friends and family who will support you whenever you need it. It's not weakness to ask for help. It takes a special kind of strength to acknowledge when it's too much to bear by yourself."

Her amber eyes seemed to glow in the low-light. "I'm not asking you to stop. I'm asking you to slow down. As my best friend once said, we're going to find the answers we're looking for. But if we destroy ourselves in the process, then what good are we?"

Yang paused for a second. She shook her golden crown ruefully and punched Blake in the arm. She chuckled, "You are such a smartass."

The door to Team RWBY's dorm came into view.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Yang asked quietly.

Blake provided, "I think the first thing you should do is talk to Ruby about all of this."

"I already _told_ you." There was an edge to her voice. "I can't open up old wounds without being able to close them again. I need to find Raven _first!"_

"I know you're just trying to do what you think is best for your little sister, I get it." The faunus argued. "But what's best for Ruby isn't shutting her out entirely. Your downward spiral has caused her so much stress. She's afraid that she's losing the most important person in her life. Ruby would rather suffer _with you,_ rather than watch you suffer _without her."_

She insisted urgently.

"Tell Ruby what's going on. Let her share in your burden. At least you two would be together again. That would be best outcome for the both of you."

Blake could see the gears working in Yang's mind. There was no battle, no trading back and forth of eye colors. But it was still evident that she was weighing her options. Finally, she rubbed her temples in tight circles and groaned.

"I can't do this right now! _"_ She strode past Blake and stood in front of the dorm room. "Right now I'm so exhausted that I can't even _think_ straight. All I want to do is crawl in bed and pass _the fuck_ out."

Yang grasped the door handle and swung it inward. Blake followed her inside.

And was immediately met with Ruby and Weiss, who were standing in the middle of the room in their sleepwear. The heiress held a scroll in her hand. She pointed at the time on the device and spoke crossly, "You two _just_ made it before curfew. What were you doing?"

The blonde and the brunette shared a guilty expression.

Scoffing, Weiss shook her head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter." She stabbed her finger at her feet. "What does matter is settling this whole catastrophe _here_ and _now._ Yang, you need to listen to what Ruby has to say."

Then she stepped aside and let Ruby approach her big sister.

Silver met amethyst. The petite girl began to speak softly.

"Yang, I know that something is tearing you up inside. I'm really worried that you're going to go overboard. Could you just tell me what's going on, like you've always done?"

She sounded so lost and helpless.

"Please, just talk to me. We've never kept anything a secret from each other before. We used to share everything, from hopes and dreams to germs and viruses. We've always, _always,_ talked to each other about everything. You...you're the most important person in my life."

Silver eyes fell to the floor. "Right now though, it's like you're pulling away and...and I don't want that to happen!"

Ruby reached for Yang's hand and grabbed it.

"I—I know that we're not going to be together forever. Once we graduate, we're probably going to do our own things. You've said that you want to go beyond the borders and see what's going on out there. You want to visit exotic places, meet weird people, and then fight them." She giggled lightly. "I don't think that's what I want to do. I'm not sure what I'm going to do yet. But either way, we're probably going to separate in four years."

She squeezed tightly.

" _But_ I don't want to lose you yet! I'm not ready to say goodbye already!" Sterling silver tears welled in her great big eyes. Her voice cracked. "I know that I'm a… a clingy little brat, you've told me a thousand times. But I don't care! I want you to keep being my big sister, because there's nobody else I'd rather have than you!"

The tears that had collected in her eyes began falling freely.

"Can we please go back to the way things were? That's all I want."

Yang squeezed her eyes shut as a tidal wave of guilt crashed upon her. Her heart plunged as she comprehended the consequences of shutting her little sister out. In all of her efforts to keep Ruby safe from pain, she had brought Ruby's greatest fear to life.

After Summer's death, Taiyang took his daughters to see child psychiatrists. Little Ruby refused to see any therapists alone, and would only speak if Yang was there with her. They would share a couch and talk about their feelings together. After observing her behavior, a shrink diagnosed Ruby with S.A.D.

Separation Anxiety Disorder.

While Ruby has certainly improved over the decade, there was still that barb hooked in her psyche. The disorder manifested itself in a loss of confidence whenever Yang wasn't around, or a tendency to second guess all of her decisions. She stumbled over her words and became insecure. Ruby found it difficult to function at her fullest without the support of her big sister.

The blonde grabbed Ruby's narrow shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug.

"It's alright Ruby," she whispered while rubbing Ruby's cherry-tipped hair, "I promise that I'll be your big sister forever. Nothing will break us apart again."

She glanced at Blake, who nodded her head tersely.

"And tomorrow, after I've gotten a good night's sleep, I'll tell you guys about everything that's been going on. It was wrong of me to try and carry this burden alone." she rocked side-to-side, still holding Ruby in her arms, "I was being selfish and not thinking about how it was hurting the people around me. I'm sorry that I put you through so much pain because of my stubbornness. I did you wrong, and I'm going to make it up to you."

Ruby rested her head on Yang's shoulder. "I'm just glad you're back. I missed you a lot."

Blake smiled as she watched the two sisters reunite. Weiss muttered under her breath, "Well, it's about time."

After they separated, Yang promptly took a change of clothes in the bathroom. Soon the sound of a water running could be heard and lavender-scented steam billowed out from the crack beneath the door.

Team RWB sat on the floor in a triangle. Ruby smiled at Blake as she dabbed at her eyes, drying up the remainder of her tears, "You brought Yang home. Thanks for keeping your promise."

Blake stretched her limbs and groaned, "It wasn't easy. Your sister is as stubborn as a goat and twice as hardheaded. I had to resort to an ultimatum to bring her around."

Weiss tilted her snowcapped crown curiously, "What were the terms of this ultimatum?"

"Uh…" Suddenly Blake didn't want to talk about how she almost abandoned the team. "…That's not important."

Yang emerged from the shower wearing a loose yellow tank top and formfitting black spats. Water droplets glistened in her golden hair like deep-sea pearls. She waved once at the girls on the floor before depositing herself onto the bottom bunk bed. The sound of snoring rose almost immediately from beneath the covers.

"That's the wrong bed, dummy!" Ruby exclaimed.

Blake reassured, "I don't mind this one night. She's pretty tired from everything."

"What was Yang doing when you found her?" Weiss inquired, "She wasn't fighting street gangs again, was she?"

"Well…"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, "Please, please, don't tell me that Yang had anything to do with the fire that broke out in the downtown residential zone."

"…Uh…" Blake scratched the back of her head.

"The one that police say was fueled by an unlawful ammunition stash?"

Blake coughed into her fist, looking anywhere in the room except the heiress.

Weiss rubbed circles into her temples, "Yang's got a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. Setting things on fire is not a healthy outlet for her frustrations."

Then her cerulean eyes widened in surprise. Gasping in outrage, she thrust a finger at Blake's bed.

"I don't believe this! Yang setting things on fire, _even in her sleep!"_

Blake and Ruby whirled around. Sure enough, dark tendrils of smoke were snaking out from beneath the covers. Golden flames rolled down Yang's sun-kissed strands, burning black holes in the sheets and pillows. A pained expression was plastered on the dragoness' face. Her eyes were shut tight and her lips pulled back, baring clenched teeth. She curled her hands into shaking fists.

Ruby leaped to her feet. "Yang's having another sleeping Semblance accident? That's the third one! What's causing this?"

The blood drained from Blake's face as realization dawned upon her.

"Oh no…" she whispered.

* * *

Yang Xiao Long stood in an all-too-familiar setting, Beacon Academy's main avenue. The shattered face of the Moon hung heavy above Beacon's central tower, casting an eerie pale light upon the cobblestone path. The deep dark blue sky was barren of stars.

A gust swept through her blonde hair, causing it to unfurl like a banner. The wind was howling in unbridled rage, reflecting the growing storm in the young Huntress' heart. Scarlet leaves rustled in the breeze, whispering words of warning.

Before her loomed the Hero's Monument. With eyes as red as blood, Yang glared at the stone statues. But it was not sculptures that were the subject of her fury.

It was the woman standing upon them.

Raven Branwen stood on top of the memorial, arms crossed in front of her chest. She stared down at Yang without her mask. An expression of barely suppressed rage was set upon her face.

Crimson eyes locked with crimson.

She growled with a stone-cold tone of voice.

"You have _no_ idea what kind of trouble you are in."


	27. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight that we've all been waiting for. Things are gonna get bloody.

The wind was howling like a caged beast, longing to be unleashed.

Yang stood on the courtyard's cobblestone path. Flames flickered fitfully down her golden hair. One moment it was an inferno almost too bright to look at. The next, mere sparks that traced -along sun-kissed strands. She breathed heavily through clenched teeth. Heat rose from her body, rippling the air around her like a mirage. She couldn't hold still, there was too much erratic energy pulsating within her. She switched hips repeatedly, shifting back and forth on her knee-high boots. Ember Celica rattled around shaking fists. All the while, her crimson eyes never left her mother.

Raven was perched upon the Hero's Monument. In contrast to her daughter, she was as unmoving as the statues beneath her. They could have been cut from the same stone. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest. Stark black locks swept around her face as the wind gusted over the Huntress. The Moon shone upon unnaturally pallid skin, casting her in an even paler light. Black-coated lips curled down in a sharp frown. Eyes as red as blood burned with daunting intensity.

A sharp breeze, painted scarlet with fallen leaves, carved through the gulf between them.

It was Raven who broke the silence, her voice was like a steel edge sharp enough to cut through bone and sinew.

"You don't know how to follow orders, do you? I told you to forget about me."

Yang squared her shoulders. She shot back with a heated tone of voice, "You gave up the right to tell me what to do a long, _long_ time ago."

That seemed to garner a reaction from Raven, whose whole body stiffened slightly. For a second, she seemed to be at a loss for words. The moment passed and her expression darkened.

"I left you to keep you safe from me. I betrayed everyone I loved because I loved you too much."

She reached behind her back and produced the ghastly Ancient Nevermore mask.

"I took up this mask to keep my identity safe, so that my enemies wouldn't go after you. I have hunted the worst of the worst, so that your world might be safer. I have killed for you, because that's the only way I know how to protect you _._ Everything I've done; I did for _you."_

The black-haired Huntress glared at the visage in her hand as though it had betrayed her.

"But now you've taken up this same mask." Her lips curled ferociously. "Now you're putting yourself in pointless danger for no apparent reason except to _spite_ me."

The wailing wind reached a crescendo.

"By putting on this mask, you have _spat_ in the face of all my sacrifices. Everything I have done, all of my efforts, each and every drop of blood I've spilt was for you. And you've shown nothing but contempt."

Yang started to retort, "Do you seriously think I should be _grateful_ —"

"Be quiet!" Raven bellowed abruptly, her face ugly with anger.

The red-eyed slayer's aura was unlike anything Yang has ever felt before. It was like being submerged by a subzero tempest. Whatever words she had planned to use were frozen at the tip of her tongue. She ceased breathing and her lungs filled with frost. Fear clutched her heart with frigid fingers. A bitter winter chill settled deep in her bones, turning them brittle and weak. The dragoness began to shiver uncontrollably, hands quaking from ice-cold terror. An overwhelming weight landed on her shoulders, threatening to drop her to her knees before she could even mount a resistance.

In that moment, Yang realized that _this_ was the reason why so many people ceased moving in the presence of the Reaper. She was the mortal incarnation of dread.

"Don't even speak a word right now." Raven spoke with a growl, deep in her throat. "I'm so furious that I'm seeing _red."_

A spark of heat kindled in Yang's chest and quickly billowed into a roaring flame. The glacier-like atmosphere was swept away by the inferno. Golden fire ignited and swirled around her body like a blazing twister. Fiery crimson eyes scorched like iron in a blast furnace.

"You think _you're_ seeing red?" Yang hollered in disbelief. She pointed at her face. "My eyes literally _turn_ red when I get angry! And I've been angry _a whole lot_ lately!"

Shaking her head, Raven snapped. "I'm wasting a lot of time by coming here and talking to you. I should be out there," she pointed at the black horizon, "fighting the forces of darkness that threaten to destroy civilization. But instead, I'm forced to clean up _your_ mess because you went and painted a target on your back."

"Aw…" the blonde drawled sarcastically. "I'm sorry, am I _inconveniencing_ you?"

Raven's eyes narrowed. "Do you even know what your rampage has started? Word of a copycat Reaper has spread around like wildfire. The criminal underworld already hates me. But two of me? That's two more than they can tolerate. The crime lords are already planning on moving to end this problem."

She stabbed her finger at her feet. "And that's why I'm here. To put a stop to this before they do."

Baring her fangs with a snarl, Yang declared, "I'd like to see you try!"

Ember Celica unfolded and enveloped her fists. _Clank-clank-clank._ She swung both weapons back hard enough to load a Burn Dust bullet in each of their chambers. _Ka-chunk._ Finally, Yang brought her arms up in a fighting stance and _clanged_ the shotgun-gauntlets together. The air around her pulsated with unrestrained power in beat with her heart. Blonde eyebrows gathered like a growing thunderstorm as she glared wrathfully at the red-eyed slayer. Tongues of fire flared from her open mouth upon every ragged breath.

Boiling hot crimson locked with ice-cold crimson.

Silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. Raven cocked her head slightly, angling one eye directly at Yang. Then she seemed to sigh with her whole body.

"You're not willing to talk this through like a civilized person." she said it like a statement rather than a question.

"Damn straight." Yang agreed.

Nodding her black crown, "Well, that's fine by me." She affirmed with a rough voice, "Because I'm not in any mood for talking either."

Raven's hand began to slowly cross over her body toward the weapon hanging off her hip. But instead of unsheathing the great blade, she unlocked the buckles on her belt and detached Yatagarasu and Masamune. With a single hand, she lifted the pair above her head. Then she nonchalantly cast them off the monument. The sword and sheath fell down and landed on the cobblestone.

_**CRACK!** _

The combined weapons broke the avenue where they landed. Yang's eyes widened.

" _Just how heavy are those things?"_

Without breaking eye contact, Raven abruptly twisted her neck to one side, producing a revolting _crunch._ Then she rotated her neck in the opposite direction, eliciting an encore _crunch._ A low groan drew from the Reaper's throat. Raven laced her fingers and bent them back sharply. The symphony of _snaps_ and _pops_ could be heard even from where Yang was standing.

Placing her hands on her hips, the red-eyed raven glared down at the golden dragoness. She spoke five words.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

Burning blood flooded Yang's veins. The pounding in her head grew louder and louder like the rhythm of war drums. She could feel her Semblance growing hotter in her chest like a boiler about to blow. Her breath hitched with the effort to contain it, to let it build, to let it feed off her pain.

When Ruby explained Yang's Semblance to Blake and Weiss, she had told them that Yang grew stronger the more damage she sustained. This was technically a lie of omission. While it was true that Yang's Semblance powered up the more she was beaten up, this description left out a very important factor. Physical damage was not the only thing that fueled Yang's Semblance. Emotional damage was just as good a source of power. And lately, Yang had suffered a _lot_ of emotional damage.

All of the anger, the confusion, the frustration that she had bottled up in her oasis. It was time to let it _all_ out.

Yang kicked off the ground and took flight. She soared over Raven's head with fiery comet tail trailing behind her. The dark Huntress held still and watched her ascension. At the zenith of her leap, the blonde went supernova. The Moon was outshone by her brilliance. She was a blinding explosion of heat and fire and rage, bright enough to stain the night sky with the ombré colors of the rising sun, purple to red to gold.

Then gravity took hold and pulled her down, directly at her mother. She plummeted like a meteor, wreathed in flames. Dust eddied away from her landing zone in concentric circles. Shadows lengthened as she drew closer to the surface. Yang pulled her fist back and let loose a deafening roar. An instant before impact, she swung Ember Celica straight at Raven's thoroughly unimpressed face.

The Hero's Monument shattered into a million molten pieces with a thunderous eruption. Liquefied fragments shot in every direction. The powerful overpressure wave swept across the main avenue, uprooting trees and bending back the remaining few left standing. A plume of smoke and dirt jettisoned straight up and blossomed in the distinct shape of a mushroom cloud. Red hot cobblestones rained down, igniting countless brushfires across the courtyard.

Yang was left standing in a wide crater as deep as she was tall. The rocks beneath her fist steamed. But Raven was nowhere to be seen.

"You missed." An icy voice commented from somewhere behind.

Whirling around, the blonde pugilist threw her fist toward the source of the voice. A Burn bullet shot from the shotgun-gauntlets and lanced straight at Raven. It exploded against the lip of the crater, deforming the ground further. But Raven was nowhere to be seen.

"Just remember," Raven stated from directly behind Yang, " _you_ asked for this."

She couldn't react in time. Pain exploded along her back and the force of the blows— _"how many times did she even hit me?" —_ sent the blonde careering across the basin. Her face slammed into the scorched soil. She swiftly slapped her palms down and threw herself back onto her feet. Spinning to meet her adversary, Yang's heart leaped into her chest when she came face-to-face with Raven.

" _Shit she's fast!"_

Yang threw a right hook as hard as she could. Raven's hands blurred into motion. Her left hand caught the outside of Ember Celica at the same time as her right hand chopped the crook of Yang's elbow. The end result was to sharply redirect the feral punch until it impacted directly into Yang's nose. The blonde's crown whipped back from the force of her own attack, eyes wide and dazed. Raven's hands didn't stop moving for a second. They struck like machine gun fire, one after the other. She walked the barrage upward, from stomach to sternum to skull. Stars exploded in hot crimson eyes as Raven's fist collided with her face.

Desperate to get away, to get some breathing room, Yang leaped backwards out of the crater. Suddenly, Raven jumped and caught up to her in mid-air. An axe kick sent Yang careening to the ground. Her back slammed against the cobblestone avenue hard enough to leave a depression. She rolled backwards to her feet and brought her hands up to defend herself from Raven's relentless onslaught.

Raven did not disappoint. The second that she touched down on the ground, she dashed forward with superhuman speed. Yang punched with Ember Celica as fast as she could, firing a barrage of Burn bullets that screamed like fireworks. The Reaper moved too fast for the eye to follow. She appeared to blink in-and-out of existence as she closed the distance. Flitting back and forth, she effortlessly slipped through the bombardment and materialized just in front of the brawler.

" _She's even faster than Qrow!"_

Drawing her fist back like an arrow on a bowstring, Yang let it fly at Raven's face. As high as her Semblance was powered up right now, such a punch would be capable of crumpling steel. The Reaper quickly ducked beneath the overextended limb and buried her left elbow into Yang's solar plexus. A hot breath of air expulsed from the dragoness' lips as she doubled over. Then, using her elbow like a hinge, Raven whipped her left fist up into the blonde's gritted teeth. Without stopping, she shaped both her hands like blades and slashed with a cross-motion at her daughter's throat.

Instinctively, Yang brought her arms up to protect her neck. Unfortunately, while her gauntlets succeeded in stopping Raven's knife-hands, they were nowhere near close enough to prevent her boot from driving into Yang's stomach. The side-kick launched her horizontally and sent her rolling across the courtyard.

For the third time, the berserker found herself on the ground. So much surface area of her body throbbed with pain that she could scarcely fill her lungs with air. The agony was devoured by her Semblance and the flames that flowed down her hair only grew hotter. She felt as though she were harboring a dwarf star in her heart. Smoke filled her head so completely, suffocating rational judgement.

" _I'm revved up so much right now, all I need is a single solid punch to win! If I just keep swinging, eventually I'll hit her!"_

Raven spoke in a low voice, "Get up. I'm not _done_ with you yet."

Ember Celica pulverized the Remnant beneath her in frustration as she rose to her feet.

"Try not to fall unconscious too soon."

Enraged, Yang flung herself at Raven. A golden inferno flared around the dragoness as she charged with the force of a high speed freight train. She yelled at the top of her lungs as she launched a megaton punch directly at Raven's face. Shaking her head in disappointment, Raven flickered from view. She reappeared behind Yang without a whisper of sound. The brawler dug her heels in the dirt in a desperate attempt to halt, but inertia proved to be a cruel mistress. She staggered, thrown off balance by her own forward momentum.

" _Fuck! I can't—"_

Her thought was cut off by a heavy blow to her spine, forcing her to arch her back sharply. She spun around and swung a closed-fist backhand with all her might, just to see Raven dip beneath. Before Yang could react, the Reaper rose up and delivered a teeth-rattling heel strike to her chin, which flowed seamlessly into a rising elbow with the same arm. The two-hit combo lifted Yang into the air. Her head snapped back and a salty-iron taste landed on her tongue. The world spun like a top and didn't stop even when she alighted flat on the ground.

" _Get up!"_ she hollered in her head. _"Get up before she says another word! Don't let her see you lying on the ground like a weakling!"_

Palms pushing off the dirt, she struggled to her feet with a pained grunt. Yang gathered up all the fluids in her mouth and spat. Red splattered on the ground. This came as no surprise. She has tasted her own blood on many occasions. All it did was motivate her to fight even harder than before.

" _She's so fast and she's always getting behind me. Well, if that's the case…"_

Clenching her teeth and balling her hands into fists, Yang began to yell. A resplendent pillar of fire consumed her entire body as she dredged up all of her might. Her roar climbed louder and louder while her Semblance built up hotter and hotter. Hurricane winds tore across the courtyard, causing Raven's pitch-dark hair to unfurl behind her. Crimson eyes squinted as she stared into the heart of the mounting firestorm.

The blazing brawler opened up into a flat out run with her fist hauled behind her ear.

An exasperated sound left Raven's throat as Yang drew closer. "The same thing, over and over again." She grumbled under her breath.

Yang stomped her feet into the earth and came to a dead stop just in front of the Grimm Reaper.

Raven vanished into thin air.

Yang pivoted on her heels and spun around completely.

Her fist hurtled toward the empty space _behind_ her.

Raven came into sight.

Right in Ember Celica's path.

Crimson eyes landed on the oncoming fist.

They widened in surprise.

"Oh f—" she uttered just before Yang punched her squarely in the stomach with everything she had.

A colossal golden explosion detonated upon the point of contact. Heat and flames bloomed between the combatants and set fire to everything in the vicinity. The earth beneath their feet was peeled back by the force of the blow. Dust swirled as though a cyclone had touched down directly on the battlefield. Yang squeezed the trigger and fired Ember Celica at point blank range. Her shotgun-gauntlet _boomed_ as it unleashed a Burn bullet against Raven's upper body.

The blast carried Raven along the courtyard, carving a straight path from the epicenter. A second explosion echoed where the Grimm Reaper landed. A geyser of rocks and dirt erupted toward the sky and fell in earthy clumps.

Exhilaration flooded Yang's body as she laid eyes on the smoking trail of destruction before her. The amber flames that flowed from her crown were extinguished. Crimson eyes reverted to amethysts. She punched the air in triumph and boasted loudly, "Let's see you get up from _that!"_

In one fluid motion, Raven stood up and brushed the dirt off her knees.

Yang's mouth dropped open.

The black-haired slayer wrapped one arm around her torso. She massaged her stomach and a grimace flickered across her face. Aura the color of blood pulsated around her abdominal region. Gray smoke rose from her singed garments.

"Well, well, _well._ " Raven remarked, "It appears that you really _can_ throw a halfway-decent punch. That actually hurt."

"There's just no way…" Yang stepped backwards slowly, disbelief quieting her words. "That was my strongest punch. I've destroyed a Paladin with that punch."

"If an attack of _that_ level was enough to beat me," Raven's back straightened as her Aura erased all of Yang's efforts, "then I wouldn't have survived even a year as the Grimm Reaper."

She gestured to the scarlet energies. "I'm sure you've noticed by now that you're special, at least compared to the other students. You see your peers get hit with a seemingly weak strike, but still they drop like flies. You may have figured out that you can withstand attacks that others can't and your Aura works faster than most to repair the damage already done. Have you ever questioned why?"

It was true, Yang had made a similar observation while watching other students dueling in Professor Goodwitch's combat class. She found herself perplexed when she saw a Hunter-in-training lose all of their Aura by only a handful of strikes. Meanwhile, Yang was easily capable of braving colossal blow after blow from Cardin Winchester's titanium mace without budging even an inch. For a while now, Yang has wondered whether there was something that separated her from the rest of the students.

"Did you think that was all _your_ power? Did you think it was the result of hard work and training?" Raven shook her head mockingly. "Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but you're just blessed with good genetics. You've got an extraordinarily dense Aura combined with an unusually deep Aura reserve. This means that you can absorb a _whole lot_ more damage than the rest of the rabble."

The red-armored slayer leisurely rolled her neck and shoulders, working out the kinks. "You get it from the Branwen blood in your veins. The Branwens were a warrior clan, they fought in every major battle in history. Qrow and I were both inheritors of this trait. You're just the next one in line."

She took a step toward Yang. "Do you understand now? You're not fighting against some street thug. You're not fighting against some low-ranking White Fang grunt. You're not fighting against some Huntsman-in-training. You're fighting against _me,_ and I'm like nothing you've ever faced before."

Her other foot advanced.

"So get ready, because now I'm going to show you how a _real_ Huntress—"

Raven started the sentence while twenty feet away. She flickered from view and reappeared just in front of her daughter.

"—fights!"

Yang didn't have time to bring up her arms in defense before she was sent reeling backwards by an attack too fast to even see.

And then another one.

And another one.

And another.

And…

* * *

"Blake, what's going on?" Ruby pleaded.

Ruby, Weiss, and Blake were kneeling on the floor around Yang's slumbering form. At Blake's urging, Weiss had used her glyphs to gently move Yang from the bed to the floor. Ruby had swiftly retrieved a fireproof blanket and wrapped it around her sister to ensure she didn't set the whole room on fire.

Blake asked Ruby, "Where did you get that blanket so quickly?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, "Glynda gave it to me."

"Didn't she want to know why you needed a fireproof blanket?"

"She just looked me in the eye and said that she isn't being paid enough for this. I think the overcrowding is kind of getting to her."

Yang may have been sleeping, but she was still just as animated as she was awake. She thrashed her limbs in her constraint, and her face was contorted in obvious pain. Golden flames rose from her hair and threatened to burn Team RWBY's sleeping quarters. The window was wide open to let out all of the stifling heat Yang was producing.

Weiss provided an answer to Ruby's question directed at Blake. "Obviously, Yang is having some kind of nightmare." She reached for Yang's shoulder. "If she's having a nightmare, then we should wake her up."

"No!" Blake lunged and grabbed Weiss' hand.

The heiress demanded, "Why are you stopping me?"

"Because, it's not a nightmare." Blake paused, looking over her partner with a sorrowful expression. "It's something worse."

Her eyes roamed Yang's writhing body. The blonde's teeth were tightly clenched and her breathing was labored. She quaked sporadically and squeezed her eyes tighter. Blake desperately wanted to grab Yang and shake her awake. But it would be selfish of her to take away Yang's opportunity to speak with Raven just because it was hard to watch.

"Have you heard of something called 'dream sharing' before?" she finally asked.

Ruby tore her gaze away from her sister. She scratched her black-cherry hair and asked, "What, like two people having the same dream?"

Shaking her head, Blake clarified, "Close, but it's not just two people having the same dream. It's two people _in_ the same dream _together."_

"A meeting in a dream? Like those bedtime stories Yang used to read to me?" Then she gasped, "Is that what's happening to Yang right now?"

Blake nodded, then turned to Weiss who was wearing a skeptical expression. "I know that this sounds pretty unbelievable, but Yang says that it's the truth and I choose to believe her."

"Fine. I'll believe her too." Weiss nodded.

Blake's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? That easily?"

Frowning, "Why do you automatically assume that I'm going to be skeptical of Yang's story?" Weiss crossed her slender arms in front of her chest, "Scientists haven't discovered all that there is to know about the soul. They're still finding out new things every day. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that people can meet in dreams. Maybe someday soon they'll learn a connection that links souls together that could explain how this is happening."

Ruby spoke up, "Yang is fighting right now, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Blake affirmed, "seems like it."

"That's all I needed to hear." Ruby then positioned herself beside Yang's head and whispered into her ear. "C'mon Yang, beat that bad guy's butt. I know you can do it."

* * *

Yang sailed through the air like a bird with broken wings. She landed hard and slid across the polished floor of Beacon's great hall. When she finally came to a stop, her cheek rested on the cool white marble.

She struggled to prop herself up on her elbows. Blood dribbled from her mouth and pooled beneath her chin. The sanguine fluid seemed so vibrant upon the alabaster stone. With an agonized grunt, she rolled onto her back and wrapped her arms around bruised ribs. Forcing her lilac eyes open, Yang took in the sight of the towering arched ceiling. Her limbs felt like solid lead bars. All she could do was suck air into sore lungs and wait for her Aura to repair the damage.

_Clop, clop, clop._

Raven's steel-toed boots sounded like cannon fire in the cavernous room.

" _Dammit, she's getting closer."_

A dark shadow fell over the horizontal huntress. Raven lifted her foot and stomped on Yang's stomach. Leaning over her knee, the Reaper's weight pinned Yang's body flat on the floor. Staring down at her daughter with an emotionless expression, Raven questioned coolly.

"Are you going to give up now?"

Yang valiantly lifted her head off the ground. Raven's fist snapped out as fast as a bullwhip and the blonde's skull smashed against the stone floor. The grand hall spun like a top, causing her stomach to tumble nauseatingly.

Pain and doubt swirled in Yang's mind in equal measure. All of the confidence and bravado that the dragoness demonstrated at the start of the fight had evaporated.

" _Raven is so goddamn fast and strong! She dodges my attacks as though I were in slow-motion and hits like a fucking tank! I can't even block her attacks; she just keeps slipping through my guard as though it wasn't even there! What was I thinking, getting into this fight? Did I honestly think that I could win?"_

Cold despair clawed at her heart. Yang was a barely battle-tested Huntress-in-training fighting against a seasoned veteran with decades of combat experience beneath her belt. Nothing she did even came close to closing the immeasurable gulf between them. There was never even a chance for victory. She felt like a fool for even trying.

"Say it." Raven demanded while leaning harder on Yang's abdomen. "Say that you give up, say that you will stop getting into fights while wearing my mask. Swear it to me and the pain will stop. I'll leave and you can move on with your life."

The words were on her lips. There was no point in dragging this humiliation out any further.

She opened her mouth. "I gi—"

All of the sudden, a sweet voice wafted into Yang's ear. It sounded faint, as though from a great distance.

" _C'mon Yang, beat that bad guy's butt. I know you can do it."_

Ruby's words of encouragement ignited a warm spark in Yang's heart.

Next was Blake.

" _We're right here, ready to support you however way we can."_

The ember grew to a small flame.

Finally,

" _You've already lost one big fight, Xiao Long. Don't embarrass yourself by losing this one too."_

The petite fire exploded into a towering inferno, filling the dragoness with renewed strength.

Yang burst into outraged laughter.

"Holy shit!" she hollered at the top of her lungs. "Weiss, I'm _so_ gonna kick your ass when I wake up!"

Raven's expression was of pure bewilderment.

As fast as she could, Yang grabbed Raven's ankle with both hands. At the same time, she rolled her hips off the floor and slammed her boot against the slayer's spine. It wasn't a very strong kick, but it was enough to dislodge Raven's stance. Yang twisted the ankle and threw her off. Then she scrambled to her feet and raised her arms in a fighting stance.

They faced each other.

Amethyst locked with crimson.

Yang pressed her thumb against one nostril and blew a dollop of blood out from the other. A hollow ache echoed within her bones and her muscles felt like vulcanized rubber. An inferno roared in her heart, but not the same as before. There was no more smoke clouding her mind. For the first time since the fight began, Yang was able to think clearly.

Raven crooked her eyebrow. "Are you still going to try and fight even after the thrashing I've dealt you?"

"What can I say?" Yang shrugged flippantly, "I'm a tough nut to crack. My usual tank-and-spank strategy didn't work, so I'm going to have to try something different."

Yang squeezed her eyes shut. Her brow furrowed as she started to concentrate harder than she has ever in her entire life. She could still feel the anger boiling inside her, but something had changed. It was no longer a wildfire blazing out of control. It had transformed into something else.

Red-hot, burning determination.

Taiyang had described this state of mind as, "the brain dedicating one-hundred percent of its faculties into a single goal, victory." In her own eloquent words, Yang liked to call it "fucking try-hard mode."

In every fight up until this point, Yang had let her Semblance blaze openly and freely. It usually got the job done. But this situation was different. _"I'm not going to win this fight just by burning recklessly. I need to be less like a wild inferno and more like a cutting torch."_

Her eyes converted to crimson and a firestorm consumed her body as though she were doused in gasoline. But instead of blasting outward, the flames were being pulled back _toward_ Yang. Tendrils of fire looped around the blazing blonde like solar flares.

Regarding her with a sharp eye, Raven observed, "You're condensing your Semblance."

Yang's face burned red with effort. She huffed and puffed between words. "Y—yeah! And it's… _**really**_ … hard to… do! _So_ … if you wouldn't… mind… _**shutting the fuck up**_ … for a second… or two…"

Surprisingly, Raven obeyed and fell silent. She placed her hands on her hips and waited patiently.

Bit by bit, the solar flares shrank as their coils became tighter. Through sheer force of will, Yang withdrew all of the rampant energy that her Semblance produced and contained it within her body. After she had finished absorbing every stray spark, the only external signs that remained were her crimson eyes and hair that glowed white like the sun. A cloud of steam erupted from gently parted lips.

The immense rush of power threatened to sweep Yang off her feet. It made her standard Semblance feel like a candle next to a flamethrower. All the might of a volcano pounded in her chest, but she couldn't let it erupt. Not all at once.

Raven observed, "That took almost a full minute. Not exactly very combat effective."

Yang's voice was stressed tight, "Well, thanks for waiting anyways. Truth be told, I've never actually used this mode in a real fight before. I guess we're both gonna see what I can _really do."_

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, "I just hope it was worth the—"

Yang didn't let her finish that sentence. She kicked off the ground hard enough to shatter the marble and traversed the distance before the word "wait" was uttered. As soon as she was in range, Yang launched a lightning-quick right jab at Raven's face. Raven leaned her body to the side and the gauntlet rocketed past her ear. Blistering hot wind rippled through ebony strands.

Crimson eyes widened in alarm.

Raven retaliated with an insanely swift punch. Before, her attacks were so blindingly fast that they were nigh impossible for Yang to even see. But in her current state, Raven's fist was clearly visible as it speeded toward her sternum.

Yang caught the punch in her left palm. _THWACK!_ At the same time, she pulled back her right fist and delivered a bone-breaking right hook at Raven's exposed ribs. Raven dropped her left arm and deployed an elbow block. _WHOCK!_ Then she retaliated with a heel-palm strike aimed at Yang's diaphragm. Yang bounced off her toes and shifted her body to the side. The attack missed entirely. She swung a fierce haymaker up into Raven's chin. The red-eyed slayer tilted her crown and the uppercut only managed to clip her cheekbone. _CHFFT!_

They separated and leaped away from each other, landing a marginally safe distance apart.

The entire exchange took place in the space of a single second.

For a moment, they merely exchanged glares at each other.

Suddenly, Yang smirked triumphantly. "Gotcha."

Raven's hand reached for her cheek and pulled away red. She rubbed the blood between her fingers and thumb with a meditative expression on her face. The red-eyed Huntress appeared to be silently appraising the minor wound.

Then she trained her intense gaze upon Yang.

"Don't drop your guard." Raven warned in a low voice. "Don't get cocky. Don't lose focus. Don't think for an instant that you've won, not until I'm slathered in my own blood and lying flat on the ground. If you're serious about beating me, then don't let up even to catch your breath. Keep your hands up. Keep your senses sharp. Use every weapon you have, every low and dirty trick in your arsenal. Exploit every one of my weaknesses as much as you possibly can. If you give up for even a microsecond, then the battle is already lost. Fight with your life on the line, and you _might_ just actually stand victorious."

A chill ran down Yang's spine. The smirk slid off of her face. She raised her fists in front of her body and started hopping back and forth on the balls of her feet. Sucking in a deep lungful of air, the dragoness soaked up every flame that had leaked out during the brief clash. Fiery ropes coiled around her and disappeared into her body. Then she released the breath slowly, steam escaping from between tightly clenched teeth.

From this point forward, the _real_ battle began.

Both warriors charged simultaneously. They met in the middle and threw identical punches. Raven's fist slammed against Ember Celica. A shockwave swept across the hall, cracks appeared on the floor like a spider's web.

They began to trade blows at neck breaking speed.

Yang fired off flurries of jabs, hooks, and uppercuts as fast as she could alternate her fists. She bobbed and weaved around Raven's attacks, keeping light on her toes. Her Semblance raged like a caged beast in her soul, demanding to be granted freedom. Yang thought her head would burst from sheer concentration.

Raven's fighting style utilized finger stabs, knife-hands, and palm-strikes. Her elbows were sharp and she attacked with them like daggers. Whenever a space appeared between them, Raven would batter Yang's defenses with a series of snap-kicks. There were _no_ breaks in her offense and _no_ holes in her defense.

The clamor of battle echoed off the elevated ceiling. Metal gauntlets _clanged_ off each other. Ember Celica fired Burn bullets to the sound of deafening _booms_. Spent shells _pinged_ as they bounced off the floor. A crescendo of _thuds_ and _thumps_ denoted when strikes landed on flesh. Grunts of pain and haggard exhales punctuated every impact. No words were spoken.

Never before had Yang fought so hard, so frantically, so desperately. Every single bit of fighting knowledge that she had learned was being put to the ultimate test. There was no room for error. She couldn't commit to any slow and heavy crosses, instead relying on quick jabs that didn't leave her defenses open. Each of her attacks had to flow _absolutely_ _seamlessly_ into the next otherwise Raven would instantly detect the gap in her assault and knock her off rhythm. This was the toughest fight that Yang has ever been in.

And yet,

Despite her greatest efforts, she was losing. Step by step, the dragoness lost ground to Raven. Every one of her punches came at a cost. When Yang managed to land one attack, Raven would respond and send her reeling back with three or four of her own. None of the hits were particularly powerful, but they were quickly beginning to accumulate.

Yang weaved beneath a palm-strike and rocketed a quick punch into Raven's abdomen. The throaty groan that followed sent a thrill of savage satisfaction through her veins. Before she could retreat to safety, Raven's elbow came down and sliced her just above the left brow. Blood seeped from the fresh gash on Yang's head and pooled in her left eye socket. It stung horribly like salt in a wound. She wiped the blood away, but the head wound was still bleeding profusely.

Ten seconds. Ten seconds passed until Yang's Aura closed the oozing injury and Raven didn't let a single one go to waste. A rising knee caught beneath her chin. Even as Yang's head was whipping back, Raven hammered her with a flurry of fists, knife-hands, and elbows. Yang kept trying to clear the blood from her eye with one hand while hindering as many of the incoming attacks as she could with the other. The moment her vision cleared, Yang brought both of her defenses up and fended off the barrage. Raven fell back and returned to her neutral fighting stance.

" _Dammit! Even when I've harnessed the full power of my Semblance, I still can't match her battle experience! I need to do something that Raven isn't expecting to make an opening! But she's seen so many of my moves already, what can I use that she won't see coming?"_

They circled each other like a pair of lionesses, gradually drawing closer. Yang wracked her brain for any weapon in her arsenal that she hasn't already expended. _"What form of punch or kick or body check haven't I already used? C'mon think! What would Dad do?"_ Her head felt like it was ready to burst into flames.

Inspiration struck. An exultant grin spread across her lips, baring her back fangs. _"No way Raven's gonna see_ this _coming!"_

Yang sucked in a deep breath and held it. She brought both arms close to her face and chest, forming a wall of tempered steel. Then she knocked Ember Celica together twice. _Clang-clang._ Peering through the gap between her arms, Yang saw Raven accept the challenge. She braced herself for the oncoming onslaught. Heat began to build in her lungs.

In an instant, the dark-haired Huntress was upon her. Raven attacked fiercely and from every possible direction. She was absolutely merciless in her attempts to break through Yang's steel defense.

The blonde boxer pivoted on her toes, rotating in place to keep Raven at her front. Yang's arms were going numb from the heavy assault. Canary-colored Aura shimmered weaker and weaker beneath the ruthless salvo. Her lungs burned.

Raven shaped her left hand like a spearhead and drove her fingers straight through the opening between Yang's gauntlets. Yang clapped her hands together and caught the attack between her palms. Then she wrapped her right arm around Raven's left. She locked it beneath her armpit. Raven lashed out swiftly with her right hand. Yang caught that one and trapped it just the same.

Both combatants grunted in exertion. Raven struggled to free her arms and Yang fought to keep her restrained. The dragoness opened her mouth wide. A lantern-glow traveled from her chest, up her throat, and into her maw. Too late, Raven realized what was coming.

With a tremendous roar, Yang expelled a gout of golden fire from her mouth.

Held firmly in place, Raven could not possibly dodge out of the way. The flames engulfed her from the shoulders up. An agonized bellow tore out of her throat. Yang released Raven's arms. The blazing Huntress stumbled away, swatting at the fires frantically.

"Now it's _my_ turn!" Yang shouted.

She hauled her fist all the way back and swung it as hard as she could, straight into Raven's ribs. Crimson Aura flared upon contact. The shock of the impact ran up her whole arm. Then she threw a straight cross into the opposite side. More Aura appeared to absorb the blow. A _crunch_ was heard. Raven staggered backwards, still fighting the flames surrounding her head.

"I'm not done yet!"

Yang followed up with a barrage of earth-shattering punches. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she pumped her arms as fast as she possibly could. Shotgun blasts _boomed_ continuously like undying thunder. Her biceps felt like they were about to shred apart. The protective field surrounding Raven flickered lower with every blow.

Finally, the dragoness leaped up and slammed her fist into Raven's chin. Ember Celica spent her last bullet. Yang thought the recoil would break her arm off. Tumbling head over heels, the Reaper careened straight up into the ceiling.

_**CRASH!** _

Plaster and debris followed Raven's descent as she plummeted toward the floor. Just before impact, Raven somersaulted in midair and landed gracefully on her feet. The golden flames were extinguished, leaving angry red blisters that contrasted sharply with her pastel skin.

" _Fucking hell! Is she made from titanium?!"_

Raven brushed dust off her shoulder plates. An unfamiliar expression flickered for a split second across her visage. Not anger or rage, but something else. Yang recalled seeing a similar countenance on Qrow's face a long time ago, after watching Ruby slay her very first creature of Grimm.

Pride?

Shaking her head, Yang decided that she must have imagined it. A sudden coughing fit wracked her body. Pain stabbed into both of her lungs and tore up her throat. She could taste smoke. As soon as the convulsions passed, she massaged her neck and grimaced.

" _Note to future self, fire breathing hurts like a_ bitch! _Last resort only."_

She flexed her wrists and Ember Celica ejected all of her empty shells. Steam trailed from the heated casings as they rained to the floor. Then she reached for her ammo pouch behind her back and produced two bandoliers of Burn bullets. First she reloaded the left gauntlet, then the right. Yang punched the air with both fists and the spring-powered reload mechanism fed a bullet into each empty chamber.

Blonde brows knotted in concentration. Solar flares formed helical arcs as they returned to the brawler. Steam billowed from her open mouth. She would need every bit of firepower to finish this fight.

Mother and daughter faced the other.

At an unspoken command, they took off running and zeroed the distance between them. As soon as they neared striking range, they halted and began orbiting each other in tight circles. From a bird's eye view, it appeared like an intricate dance of amber and obsidian.

Raven snapped a low kick at Yang's legs. The blonde matched her with an identical kick. Their shins crossed in the middle. Still standing on one leg, Raven fired off two more kicks at Yang's midsection and head. Yang blocked the second kick and ducked beneath the third. Then she aimed Ember Celica at the floor and fired. Raven kicked off the ground to escape the blast and flipped over Yang's head. As soon as she landed, Raven ducked beneath a backhanded swing and swept Yang's feet from beneath her.

The blonde landed on her stomach with a grunt and immediately rolled to the side. A boot stomped a hairsbreadth away, leaving an inch-deep footprint in the marble. She leaped to her feet, aimed both gauntlets directly behind her, and fired simultaneously. The recoil propelled her straight at Raven, too fast to be dodged. Yang threw as hard a punch as she could, aiming for her mother's teeth.

It never landed. Raven quickly slashed the air with her hand and crimson hole opened between them. Unable to stop her forward momentum, Yang nosedived through the hellish portal. Her eyes remained wide open, but it was as dark as the void of space. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Pressure crushed her on all sides, as though she were being pulled through a keyhole. Just when she thought that her body would break, the force fell away and she fell bodily onto a new stage. Pain shot up her elbows like jagged daggers when they struck the floor.

For a moment, Yang stayed prone on the ground and squeezed her eyes shut. Sound pounded relentlessly against her skull, a rhythmic _clunk-clunk-clunk_ like clockwork. The contents of her stomach bubbled nauseously.

" _If I throw up in a dream, does it happen in real life?"_

Such an experiment would have to wait, indefinitely.

Finally, her eyes snapped open and she scrambled upright. One glance around the circular room and Yang immediately recognized where Raven's portal had sent her. She stood in Beacon's central tower, specifically Headmaster Ozpin's office. Humongous metal gears, too many to count, rotated and meshed above her crown. They appeared like dancers in a ballroom performing a complicated act. Wide open windows granted a breathtaking view of the entire academy.

Roman numerals were etched in the stone floor around the circumference of the office. Sitting at the twelve o'clock position was Ozpin's desk and chair. The desk was wrought-iron with a cut-glass surface; clockwork revolving endlessly within its interior. Yang half-expected to see the Headmaster behind his desk; lounging in his metal chair, fingers steepled together, elbows resting on the cog-shaped arms. But she was alone in the room.

_KA-THUMP_

The sound of boots landing on the floor alerted Yang. She spun around and brought Ember Celica to bear. Raven stood in front of the portal. With a flick of her wrist, the portal shrank and disappeared. She turned her head from side-to-side, crimson eyes lingering on seemingly empty spaces. An unreadable expression adorned her face like a mask.

Yang called out, "Are you gonna daydream or are we gonna fight?!" She punched a fist into her opposite hand. _Smack._ Hot mist spewed from her mouth.

Snapping out of her reverie, Raven replied with, "Can't wait for two seconds, can you? Fine, come and get it, I'll beat you down to size."

The blonde bruiser pulled both shotgun-gauntlets back to her hips. Shouting at full volume, she rapidly punched the air and fired a volley of Burn bullets straight at Raven. The Grimm Reaper dashed forward at breakneck speeds, dipping and dodging fireballs with bare minimum motions. Every searing projectile failed to land by millimeters. Explosions thundered in her wake, tearing chunks out of the floor.

Yang kept shooting, pumping her arms like pistons filled with nitroglycerine.

Suddenly, Raven swung her fist and backhanded a missile right back at her.

"Shit." Was all that came out of Yang's mouth before the Burn bullet detonated against Ember Celica. Fire and smoke splashed across her vision. For a split second, Yang lost sight of Raven. She frantically swiveled her head in circles, trying to find the black-clad slayer. A shadow passed overhead. Instinctively, Yang kicked backwards. Raven dropped from above and slammed her fist on the floor. Solid stone broke beneath her knuckles with an earsplitting _crack._

Without stopping for an instant, Raven rolled to her feet and lunged forward. Yang pulled her fist back to her ear, preparing to punch, but Raven caught the attack before it even started. Her fingers curled around Ember Celica, the barrel of the gun smothered by her palm. Raven leaped overhead, landed back-to-back with Yang, and then used that momentum to flip the blonde over her shoulder. Yang thought her arm would pop out of its socket.

Her back smashed against the half-circle window behind Ozpin's desk. The sound of glass crunching filled her ears. Fissures spread from the point of impact to the edges of the pane. All of the air was knocked out of her lungs. Gravity pulled her down and she landed flat on her stomach. Shards of broken glass rained upon the blonde. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. Her mouth gaped like a fish out of water as she desperately tried to draw oxygen into collapsed lungs.

Footsteps came around the desk. Raven strode in front of Yang and savagely kicked her in the face. Steel toed boot connected with teeth. Copper-tasting blood swished inside the blonde's mouth. Her head snapped back and cracked against the Headmaster's metal throne. Yang reached with both hands and gripped the back legs of the throne.

In one smooth motion, the dragoness rose to her feet, lifted the heavy iron chair, and swung it around in a wide arc, aiming for Raven's head.

Raven opened her mouth wide.

The head of the chair smashed into her face.

Vibrations traveled up into Yang's arms, nearly numbing them.

The shrill screech of metal sheering pierced the air.

Yang staggered backwards, still holding the throne. She stared at the impromptu weapon in her hands. _The chair was missing its triangular headpiece._ Mind numb, she slowly rotated her head and laid eyes on the missing headpiece.

It was trapped between Raven's teeth.

The Grimm Reaper spat the metallic member out of her mouth. It _clanged_ on the stone floor. There were teeth marks in the metal. She dragged her forearm across her mouth, wiping blood away. A hint of a smirk tugged at her black lips.

"Alright," Yang admitted in an awed tone, "that was _pretty_ fucking hardcore."

She heaved the decapitated throne at Raven and immediately chased after it. Raven whirled in place, spinning on her back foot, and knocked the seat out of the air with a roundhouse kick. Keeping up the momentum, she followed through with a second roundhouse kick that caught Yang in mid-tackle. The blonde fell halfway on top of the desk's smooth glass surface, spine stretched back painfully. Raven raised her leg high above her head, a perfect vertical split, and delivered a powerful axe kick. As soon as Yang saw the heel dropping, she ducked beneath the desk. Raven's boot crashed down, cracking glass and buckling iron.

Sliding on her shins, Yang came out from underneath the desk and emerged on the opposite side.

Quickly, she took in the scene. Raven stood on the other side of the desk, facing Yang, with her back to the crack laden window. With the desk between them, Yang had an obstacle to clear before she could reach her mother. It would be strategically unwise to try a full-frontal assault.

Raven mockingly gestured toward herself with a finger.

Yang's mouth dropped open.

" _Nobody challenges a dragon and gets away with it!"_

She fired twin blasts behind her and rode the recoil toward the dark-clad Reaper. Raven stepped back into a defensive stance.

Raven expected her to leap over the desk; she expected Yang to slide underneath the desk.

What she did _not_ expect was for Yang to pick up the desk and use it as a battering ram.

Which is exactly what Yang did.

Gripping the edges with both hands, the dragoness flipped the desk vertical and slammed her shoulder against it. Screaming at the top of her lungs, she rammed the desk straight into Raven. A surprised "huh" fell from stygian lips just before contact. Yang felt the desk shudder when Raven flattened against it. But she wasn't done there. A ferocious grin spread across her lips. Still bellowing, she carried the desk and her mother all the way to the half-circle window.

_**CRAAAAASH!** _

The window exploded outward; a geyser of broken glass. Yang felt weightless as she took flight from the towering spire. All around her, fragments twirled like ballerinas, catching light from the shattered Moon and becoming as bright as stars. Night air roughly kissed her heated face with ice-cold lips. Clouds of blistering steam rolled from her screaming mouth and swept past her cheeks. Radiant white hair flowed like liquid sunlight, tracing her downward descent.

Yang planted her feet against the underside of the desk. Shifting her weight caused the desk to tilt until she was standing on top and Raven was trapped underneath. Then she fired Ember Celica behind her, using the recoil to guide the plummeting desk toward the destination of her choice. Raven twisted her neck and looked down.

Directly beneath them was Beacon Academy's amphitheater.

Pointing the shotgun-gauntlets straight up, Yang discharged every remaining bullet. The glass dome-ceiling raced up to meet them.

"Have a nice _fall!"_ Yang shouted a second before collision.

The sound of the glass roof caving inward could only be described as apocalyptic. Large pieces of beautifully stained glass seemingly hovered in front of Yang's eyes as she fell at the same rate. Even further below was the arena's stone floor. Wearing the most vicious grin possible, the dragoness surfed the iron desk and her mother all the way to the bottom.

An enormous explosion shook the entire arena. The deafening cacophony resounded off the high ceiling. Earth, glass, and fire erupted into an enormous tar black fountain. Shockwaves expanded from the epicenter, heaving dirt and rubble across the amphitheater. A vast network of cracks canvased the entire floor. Flaming debris came down like a meteor shower, landing on top of the spectator seats.

Raven's Aura flashed and failed.

Yang careered through the air like a ragdoll, slammed into the floor, and rolled to a stop against a far wall. She could feel her Semblance burn out completely, taking the last vestiges of her Aura with it.

" _Damn. Apparently overcharging my Semblance causes it to drain a heckova lot faster than usual."_

Crimson eyes faded and regressed to amethysts. Her hair cooled from white-hot to its normal golden sheen. All of the power bled away, leaving the brawler empty and cold in its absence. She gritted her teeth and groaned in pain as every accrued injury returned with a vengeance. Her ears began to ring. Blood flooded her broken nose and poured down her face. The cut above her left eyebrow reopened. Agony saturated bone, muscle, and sinew. If there was a single patch of skin that wasn't bruised or cut, Yang wasn't aware of it.

" _Yeah, I think I'm just gonna lay here for a while."_

The smoke was finally beginning to clear from the arena. In the center of a deep crater, the mangled corpse of Ozpin's desk sat like a metal coffin. Its legs were twisted like bendy straws, all pointing in different directions. An open hand poked out from beneath, palm held up toward the ceiling.

Silence settled in the arena, broken only by labored breathing.

Silvery moonlight shone down through the hole in the roof.

Scattered slivers of glass glistened like an ocean of water.

Dust motes danced as they alighted softly on the floor.

Lilac eyes watched Raven's exposed hand, waiting uneasily.

" _Don't fucking do it."_ she pleaded mentally.

The hand slowly clenched into a fist.

A low cry escaped Yang's throat.

Metal groaned as Raven lifted the coffin lid off her body.

She staggered to a standing position, swaying unsteadily on her feet.

Yang shouted, "For fuck's sake! Would you _please stay_ _**down?!"**_

Scarlet plates of armor rattled as Raven's shoulders shook. She chuckled, "I've still got some fight left in me."

Crimson eyes narrowed to slits. "Does the same go for you?"

She began to walk toward Yang's prone body; boots planted firmly with every step, the march of a soldier prepared for battle.

Hissing through clenched teeth, Yang willed her body to move against protests of agony.

" _Get up! Goddammit!"_

The distance between them continued to shrink.

Ember Celica felt like a pair of cinderblocks weighing down her arms. As quickly as she could, Yang twisted her wrists and pulled them free from the weapons.

Raven was almost upon her.

Planting one hand on the wall for leverage, Yang hauled herself up on shaking knees. She rested her sweat soaked forehead on the cool stone barrier, chest heaving with every breath. Then she turned around, placed the wall flat against her back, and raised her bare arms in a boxing stance.

"Put up… your dukes." The blonde wheezed.

"No gloves, hmm?" Raven murmured. One after the other, the she removed her gauntlets from her arms and let them clatter to the floor. Yang caught sight of a black shape on Raven's left palm, just before it disappeared into a fist.

It looked like a tattoo?

Pushing the distraction out of mind, Yang focused on the fight at hand. It wasn't easy, her skull pounded with a hideous headache, sending the world rocking as though she were standing on a storm-tossed ship. Every tendon felt stretched too far and every muscle throbbed excruciatingly. Even without her weapons, the effort of holding her arms up was absolutely Herculean. Yang didn't dare imagine what she looked like on the outside, but it couldn't be a pretty sight.

If there was any consolation, it was that Raven also appeared to have been put through the wringer. Her normally ashen face was painted red with blood and blisters. Black and blue bruises shone on her naked arms, rewards from blocking so many of Yang's punches. Her arms were too low to protect her head from swift attacks, but at the right height to shield her ribcage. The occasional hitch in her breathing betrayed a damaged rib. Maybe two.

There was no breath in Yang's lungs for a battle cry, so she attacked without a sound. Shoving off the wall with her elbows, the dragoness threw a quick jab at Raven's cranium. Her fist moved painfully slow. Even so, the Reaper only barely craned her head out of the way before retaliating with an equally sluggish uppercut. Yang's elbow dropped and managed to deflect the incoming strike. Pain plunged into her arm.

They both fought as though they were standing underwater. No weapons, no technique, no Aura. The fight had degraded to an old fashioned slug-fest. When they couldn't even muster the energy to defend themselves, Yang and Raven simply took turns punching the other with all their might.

_WHAM!_

Yang saw stars exploding behind her eyelids.

_BAM!_

Raven doubled over, breathless.

_CHUFF!_

Yang held her stomach with both hands.

Then she drew her right fist back to her ear and let it fly.

In the end, it was their _will to live_ that chose the victor.

And Raven had lost hers over a decade ago.

She could see the punch coming around, aiming for her jaw.

Dodging would have been as simple as taking one step back.

But she didn't.

Bare knuckles slammed into Raven's chin. Her head snapped to the side and her body followed. She fell as limply as a puppet without a marionette. The ground rose up and welcomed the Reaper like a long awaited grave. Gravel crunched upon collision.

Huffing and puffing, Yang could scarcely believe her eyes.

"Is… are you done?" she asked tentatively.

Raven sighed, "Yeah."

"I did it." The dragoness gasped. "I really won!"

Yang made to punch the air, but barely managed to raise her fist above her shoulder before a stab of pain politely requested her to keep her celebration to a low roar.

Then she summarized the entire fight with a simple, "Ow."

After a moment, the prone Huntress turned her head and gazed at the victor.

"What happens now?"

Yang gingerly sat down on the floor beside her mother, ouching all the way.

"Now?" She leaned in and spoke firmly, "Now we talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The will to live is so very important. To never give up, to never surrender, to keep going despite all the pain and suffering. Endure it all. That's my motto.
> 
> It makes all the difference in the world.


	28. Acidic Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truth bombs are dropped like there's no tomorrow.

Amethyst eyes fluttered open. Bright yellow sunlight plunged into tender orbs like searing spears, inducing a bitter groan. A warm gust of wind entered in through the open window, swept past burgundy curtains, and gently stroked her cheek. Songbirds filled her ears with pleasant chirping as they greeted the arrival of morning.

Yang found herself lying flat on the floor. This confused her because she remembered crawling into Blake’s bed just before falling asleep. There should be a soft mattress caressing her spine, not hardwood. Furthermore, a thick blanket lined with silvery material had been wrapped around her body. Confused, she twisted her neck and discovered her teammates watching her with intent.

“Yang!” Ruby threw her hands in the air and cried out joyfully, “You’re finally awake!”

Blake’s eyes were full of worry, “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

Freeing her arms from the blanket, Yang placed her palms on the floor and forced herself to a sitting position. She gritted her teeth and braced for the waves of agony from her injuries. They never came. The most pain she felt was a slightly sore spine, probably from sleeping on the floor. She held her arms in view and discovered unmarred pale skin.

“I feel fine actually.” Yang said, relief palpable in her voice. Running a finger along her cheekbones and nose, “How’s my face?”

Blake leaned in, closely inspecting Yang’s face. The blonde hadn’t expected a proximity breach. She couldn’t help but notice a blissful aroma, like freshly crushed lavender leaves, or how the sunlight sparkled in those deep amber pools, or her soft lips—

“It looks… uh… good.” Blake abruptly retreated and turned her head away. Were her cheeks pink?

Quickly, Yang forced a laugh while scratching the back of her head. “I guess what happens in dreamland _stays_ in dreamland.”

“Speaking of dreamland,” Weiss stood over Yang with hands on hips, “what happened last night? Were you really attacked? Who was it? You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Xiao Long!”

Craning her neck, Yang looked up at the heiress. “I wanna ask somethings first.” She popped up her index finger. “One, why am I on the floor?” Then she raised her middle finger. “Two, what the _fuck_ _happened to **the ceiling?!”**_

Directly above her head, a huge black mark spread across the ceiling. Soot surrounded the spot.

Exhilaration sparkled in silver eyes as Ruby exclaimed, “You shot fire out from your mouth! Like this!” She threw her head back and made fire-related whooshing sounds while gesturing straight up at the scorch blemish. “It was so cool!”

“It was most certainly _not_ cool.” Weiss snapped. “I had to extinguish the flames with Ice Dust and Ruby had to wave the smoke out the window with her cape. Also, we had to move you from Blake’s bed before you set the whole bunk on fire. Next time this happens, try not to burn down our dorm room.”

Blake returned, “I told them what was happening while you were asleep. I didn’t tell them everything though. I figured that you should be the one to explain to Ruby and Weiss what’s been happening.”

“Alright, I did say that I’d bring everyone up to speed.” Yang acknowledged.

She stood up and arched her aching back until the tips of her hair feathered the floor. Then she traversed over to Blake’s bottom bunk, feet dragging with every step. Plopping her posterior onto the soft mattress, Yang rested her elbows on her knees and expelled a heavy sigh. Her shoulders sank as though the weight of the world had settled upon them. Weariness that was more than exhaustion weighed down her body.

“Ruby?” Her voice was unbearably quiet.

The red-cloaked girl replied worriedly, “What’s wrong?”

Patting the space beside her, Yang requested, “Could you sit here? This is going to be hard to talk about and I could use some support.”

Springing to her feet, Ruby inched over to Yang. Trepidation was apparent upon her youthful face. Something about her sister’s behavior was deeply unsettling. This melancholic Yang was even more disconcerting than the angry, exploding Yang from yesterday. Swallowing her anxiety, Ruby sat down next to the blonde. The bedsprings squeaked.

Meanwhile, the monochrome pair had grabbed two chairs and maneuvered them directly in front of the bed.  Weiss sat with her knees together and her back ramrod straight, like a proper lady. Blake tilted her body forward, feline ears directed solely at her partner.

Nobody spoke, the only sounds were that of springtime drifting in through the window.

Yang put her arm around Ruby’s shoulder and held her tight. She met her younger sister’s gaze.

Finally, “I found my mother.”

Silver eyes blinked once, then grew wide as saucers. Ruby gasped sharply, mouth wide open.

“What!” the elfin girl cried, “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me before? What’s her name? What’s she like? Why did she abandon—”

“Calm down Ruby!” Yang flicked her ear, inciting a sharp ouch. “Be quiet and lemme tell the story.”

Once she started, words ran from her lips like water from a burst dam. Everything that Yang had been holding deep inside herself came pouring out. It was a relief and horrible at the same time. She felt as if she were being battered by a monsoon. Whenever emotions threatened to drown her, Ruby would squeeze her hand to provide an anchor.

Telling the encounter on the train meant admitting how close to death she had come at the hands of little Miss Neo. Ruby became upset and blamed herself. "I shouldn't have let you go ahead without me. I'm the leader and I didn't lead. If anything had happened to you, I don't know what..." The thought of losing Yang shook her to the core.

Eyebrows shot up after Yang finished with the first meeting in the dream. Upon hearing Raven’s cryptic warning, Weiss immediately demanded answers. “Beacon isn’t safe? What’s the nature of the danger? Does she have any proof?” Blake put her finger to her lips and shushed. The heiress crossed her arms and harrumphed.

After Yang briefly explaining how she discovered her parentage, how Aura could only be shared between mother and child, she plunged into the second meeting. Raven’s warning about Neo’s superiors caught Weiss’ curiosity. She managed to hold back her questions. When Yang revealed Raven’s past, Ruby clenched her hands into fists.

“Uncle Qrow and Raven had the worst childhood I’ve ever heard. How could a mom be so _evil_ to her kids? Raven shouldn’t have to suffer for the rest of her life just because her mom abused her as a child. It’s not right.” Her chin dropped to her chest. “I guess now I know why Uncle Qrow never talks about growing up or lets us visit his old house.”

A sick pang of misgiving wormed in Yang’s heart. The worst part was coming up. Holding Ruby’s hand gently, Yang opened her mouth.

“Ruby… there’s something more…”

There had to be a way to say it. Some combination of words that wouldn’t break the young girl’s heart. But there was no easy way to bring up the subject of her mother’s death.

“The meeting didn’t end well. Raven… she said something… and then ran away. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Ruby’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What are you sorry about?” she asked quietly.

Yang struggled to force the words out. Her throat tightened until she thought she would suffocate.

“You’re scaring me.” Ruby whispered.

The blonde chewed her lower lip.

“The last thing Raven said before she ran… was that… she…”

No going back.

“…Raven said that she knows what happened to Summer.”

Silence.

A pin drop would be the loudest sound in the room. Ruby sat completely frozen, her lips parted just the tiniest amount. Shallow breaths exited her lungs. Her hand was still in Yang’s grasp. Her skin never felt so cold. It was like all the warmth in her soul had been stolen away. Silver eyes stared blankly at nothingness.

Those colorless orbs, usually sparkling with vivacity, were now hollow glass.

Blake stood up from her chair and quickly sat down on the bed beside Ruby, sandwiching the petite girl between her sister. She set her hand on Ruby’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Weiss leaned forward in her chair and laid her hand on Ruby’s knee, softly in such a way that she were made from delicate porcelain. Combing her fingers through short black strands, Yang whispered hoarse sorrows.

Surrounded on all sides by friends and family, Ruby never looked so small before.

Prolonged contact seemed to have an effect. She began to breathe normally again. A storm of emotions gathered in clouded eyes. Lips barely moving, she spoke with a lifeless voice.

“Raven knows what happened to my mom.”

Sniffling, Yang nodded slowly.

“Twelve years. My mom has been g—gone for almost twelve years and Raven has kept it a secret this entire time.”

Her golden crown rose and fell.

“But she told you that she knew, which is why you’ve been angry and upset.”

Then Ruby tilted her head and stared at Yang with a wounded expression.

“You don’t trust me.”

Dreadfully frigid fingers clutched Yang’s heart. She quickly insisted, “No! I do trust you!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?!” Ruby cried out.

Blake interjected, “Yang was just trying to do what she thought was best for you.”

“By keeping secrets from me? Secrets _this big?”_ She quickly shook off her teammates’ hands, leaped from the bed, and stole the empty seat. Hurt saturated her words, “This is something we should have shared together! You got hurt because you _don’t_ trust me!” She stabbed her thumb into her chest, “I’m not a little kid anymore! I’m not just your little sister that you need to protect all the time! I’m your leader, that means that it’s my responsibility to protect _you!_ When you get hurt, it’s my fault!”

Her small shoulders sagged and her cherry-tipped crown bowed. A forlorn moan slipped from her lips as she voiced her insecurities, “Why don’t you trust me as a leader?” Tears trembled in Ruby’s eyes like pools of mercury. “Am… am I not good enough?”

Guilt crushed Yang’s heart until she thought that it would stop beating. She desperately wanted to lunge for Ruby and hug her tight, but she remained seated by the weight of her remorse. Wringing her hands tight enough to color her fingertips red, the blonde frantically beseeched her sister.

“No, no, no! _Please_ don’t think that! I promise that I absolutely trust you. I trust you more than anyone else, even more than myself! You’re such a great leader and I’m _so proud_ that you’re the team leader!” Yang’s face fell into her hands as she self-flagellated, “I—I’m just a shitty follower and a shitty sister! I should have never kept this from you! I just wanted to find answers before I told you. I was afraid that if I told you, that you would get hurt. But in the end, I ended up hurting you anyways.” Golden tresses fell from her crown and veiled her shame like a curtain. “I’m a fuckup that keeps fucking up.”

For the longest time, neither sister spoke.

Blake and Weiss felt like intruders, sitting in on this private moment.

Ruby wiped her forearm over her eyes and let loose a shaky sigh. She murmured, “Last night, you met with Raven again, right? What happened, did you get answers?”

Lifting her face from her hands, Yang sucked in a deep breath and prepared to disclose the last discussion with her mother.

* * *

 

Raven kneeled down, tucked her legs directly beneath her, and sat on her heels. She rested her weight on the balls of her feet with her toes flat on the floor. Her palms laid on her thighs, near where her weapon would be hanging. This stance was called _kiza_ , and it granted the Reaper full traction. In case of a sudden attack, she could spring to her feet and retaliate instantly. It seemed that no matter what the situation, Raven was always prepared to fight. Sitting in such a position wasn’t a conscious choice for the Reaper. It was simply habit. Almost eighteen years of waging continuous warfare had branded her psyche with deep-seated paranoia.

The injuries she had sustained were still evident, blisters burned angry red on her face and purple bruises shone on her arms. If she was in any pain, it didn’t show on her unreadable expression. Her chest rose and fell evenly, despite the unmistakably broken ribs.

Yang had chosen to have their conversation in a familiar setting, the same classroom where she had spoken to Blake prior to the prom dance. It was exactly how she left it, down to the symbol drawn on the chalkboard. It was an emblematic eye with a cog for a pupil and broad winged lashes. The only source of light came from the Moon, pouring in from tall windows and casting ebony shadows.

Groaning lightly, the blonde sat on the surface of the mahogany desk. She didn’t have Raven’s immense pain tolerance. Every twinge of her aching muscles demanded an audible complaint. She obliged with hisses and grunts and a copious amount of swear words. It had been quite a while since Yang had completely drained her Aura. Without the anesthetizing effect of Aura, she was left to bear the entire weight of her injuries. Blood still leaked from the slice on her brow. A violet scarf, normally on her left leg, was wrapped tightly around her head to stem the bleeding.

She spent a minute in silence, simply listening to her bones creak.

It was Raven who spoke first.

“Are you still going to fight crime while wearing my mask?”

Yang rotated her head in circles and felt a series of pops reverberate up her neck. Then she answered, “That’s really up to you. The whole reason I was beating up baddies was ‘cause I knew that you’d hear about it. I figured that if I put myself in enough danger, you’d show up to try and stop me.”

Crimson eyes narrowed to slits. “You intentionally painted a target on your back, just to lure me into a trap?”

“And it worked. You’re here, after all.” Pride swelled in Yang’s chest. “The whole reason I endangered myself was because I _knew_ that it was the only way that I’d ever see you again. There’s only _one thing_ in the whole world that you actually care about enough to intervene.” She jabbed both thumbs at herself. “Me.”

The golden-haired dragoness crossed her arms in front of her chest and fixated a cold glare upon her mother. “Keep that in mind. I ain’t known for being a sensible gal. I’m willing to do some pretty stupid shit to get what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

Leaning over, Yang spoke with a voice that left no room for compromise. “Answers.”

Raven turned her head aside, avoiding Yang’s glare.

“LOOK AT ME!” Yang exploded at the top of her lungs. Bare knuckles slammed down on the surface of the mahogany desk. A sharp _crack_ punctuated her anger. She seethed through clenched teeth, “This has been coming for a long time. This is about what you said. The last thing you said on our last meeting.”

Yang grabbed her hair with both hands and yanked furiously, as though she were trying to break her skull wide open. “What you said has been _driving me **fucking insane!”**_ she screamed.

For a split second, anguished regret welled in Raven’s eyes. Then the stone-cold mask of indifference fell over her face, smothering all emotion. Not a single one of her facial muscles so much as twitched, even as Yang raged.

“You said that you know what happened to Summer Rose, then you ran away! Did you think that I was just going to let that slide? Did you think that you could just drop a bomb like that and I would be perfectly _fine?!”_

Yang grabbed her arms and squeezed. Her nails dug into her forearms. “You were wrong! I haven’t been fine! I’ve been losing my goddamn mind! I’ve been angry and miserable and confused! I’ve been so uncontrollable that my team nearly broke apart! I even caused my own sister to cry!”

Stabbing a finger in Raven’s face, “I’ve been through some major shit because of _you._ And now you’re going to fix this by telling me how Summer Rose died! Right now!”

Raven responded with a cold, detached voice, “And what if I say no?”

Deafening silence crashed upon the scene. A noiseless thundercloud began to build in the space between mother and daughter, pressure mounting by the second.

Yang’s mouth hung open, eyes wide, breath locked in shock. It hadn’t actually occurred to her that Raven could just refuse to talk. Everything she had done, all the pain she had toiled to reach this moment was being rendered fruitless by a simple _no._

“You can’t say no!” she bellowed.

Suddenly, Raven was on her feet. Her teeth gnashing furiously, eyes flaming crimson. “The past must stay in the past! Let it go!”

“I’ve come too far to let it go! I need to know what happened! I deserve answers!”

Fingers curling into fists, the Reaper argued loudly, “What would even be the point?! Do you think having answers would change anything?! There is knowledge that is woe! All that would befall you is more pain!”

“Have you ever heard of something called closure?!” Yang demanded. “Even if the answers are painful, it can’t be worse than the pain of _not-knowing!”_

Without another word, Raven pivoted on her heels and marched straight toward the door. Her footsteps sounded heavy as she made her way toward the exit.

Red-hot outrage boiled in the dragon’s blood. She shouted after her retreating mother. “Fine then! Go ahead and run away! That’s all that you’re good at! Just know that _I’m not going to stop hunting you until I have answers!”_

Raven stopped halfway through the door, one hand on the frame. Twisting her neck to look behind her, she spoke heatedly, “If you keep painting a target on your back, then you’re going to be targeted by mercenaries! You’re putting yourself in danger!”

“Bring them on then!” Yang roared while motioning aggressively towards herself, “I’ll do whatever it takes to drag you back here! Even if I have to fight you night after night, I won’t stop until you tell me everything about Summer’s death!”

Jet black lips curled angrily, “Yang, your stubbornness will get you killed!”

A vicious grin spread across Yang’s face, baring her fangs.

“Funny, you’re not the first Branwen to tell me that.”

The grim figure remained perfectly still.

“See, I’ve got a stubborn streak a mile wide. Maybe I got that from you? I’m willing to hold myself hostage just to get to you. I’ll chase you down, even if I have to walk through hell!”

As soon as the words left Yang’s mouth, the atmosphere in the room underwent a drastic change. It was just as if the temperature had plunged. Raven whirled around and charged straight toward the blonde. She stopped directly in front of Yang, breathing heavily through gritted teeth. Rage twisted her face and painted it dark red.

“You think that _you know hell?!”_ Raven screamed.

When Raven tilted her body forward, Yang could see madness dancing like hot embers in her eyes. The blonde impulsively leaned back, stunned by the torrential emotions pouring out of her mother.

“You have no idea how it feels to carry this _acidic knowledge!_ How it pushes you down like a boulder on your back every moment of every day! How it invades your mind and taints every single memory that once made you happy! How it eats everything and everything and _everything_ inside until you’re nothing but an empty shell!”

Raven’s chest heaved up and down as she slowly came down from her outburst. She staggered backwards, knees shaking weakly.

Her voice sounded raw, “I can’t get rid of it, I can’t forget it, I can’t leave it behind no matter how far I run. It’s always there,” She stabbed a finger against her temple, “like a festering wound that won’t ever close no matter what I do.”

Her shoulders slumped. A haunted expression carved deep lines in her face. Tears fell from blood-red pools and traced the harsh grooves.

“I can’t sleep.” the cursed one confessed with a hoarse whisper. Her hands came together and formed a cup, as though she were holding liquid in the palms of her hands. Pearls of water dropped from her chin and collected in the basin. “Every night. Every _single_ night I relive that very moment where I watched all my hopes and dreams bleed out through my fingers.”

Her hands splayed opened and she stared at them in such a way that they were drenched in blood.

Then Raven lifted her gaze to Yang. Those crimson globes contained a world’s wealth of anguish. “Even thinking about it is so painful that I can hardly breathe. And you want me to talk about it? You want me to extend this torture to you as well? You want me to let you share in my burden?”

Shaking her pitch-dark crown, the Reaper avowed, “I won’t let you endure even a fraction what I have suffered. Hate me, curse my name all you like! But this is my cross to bear, not yours or anyone else’s!”

For a moment, Yang couldn’t respond. Emotions wrapped around her neck like a noose, strangling her words. In her heart, she realized what her mother was undergoing.

_“Raven is just like me. She is dead-set on carrying everything by herself, no matter what the pain.”_

Setting her jaw firmly and tightening her fists, the blonde steeled her resolve.

“You’re right.” Yang admitted, “I have no idea what it’s been like for you. But it goes both ways.” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears. “You don’t know what it’s been like for me and Ruby. We’ve been stuck with questions for so long.” Her voice gradually rose higher and higher. “How did Summer die? Was it a peaceful death? Did she sacrifice herself to save lives? Was she alone? We’ve begged and begged for answers. But still we have nothing!”

She squeezed her eyes shut. Scalding tears poured down her face. A shrill cry tore out of her throat.

“WE DON’T EVEN HAVE A BODY TO BURY!”

As the scream echoed throughout the room, Raven appeared dismayed. “Atlas didn’t release Summer’s body?”

“NO!” Yang slammed her fist on the desk again. “Dad pleaded with the Atlesian army, but they completely stonewalled him! In the end, we had to have an empty casket funeral! Do you even know what that did to Ruby?”

Memories of a sorrowful wake flooded her mind. Being surrounded on all sides by pitch-dark clothes and pitch-dark faces. Pitch-dark murmurs buzzing around her ears. Daddy holding a tiny girl with eyes devoid of color so that she can peer inside a pinewood box filled with nothing but weathered photographs and broken promises. She tilts her pitch-dark crown in confusion. _Where’s mommy?_ she asked. But no answers were forthcoming.

“SHE WAS ONLY FOUR YEARS OLD! KIDS THAT YOUNG DON’T UNDERSTAND DEATH! THEY NEED TO SEE EVIDENCE! THEY NEED TO BE ABLE TO SAY GOODBYE! RUBY NEVER GOT TO SEE SUMMER LOWERED IN THE GROUND! SHE NEVER SAW PROOF THAT SUMMER WAS GONE FOREVER! FOR SO LONG, SHE KEPT ASKING WHEN SUMMER WAS COMING HOME AND SETTING AN EXTRA PLATE AT THE TABLE AND—”

There was no more air in her lungs. Yang choked and sobbed while gasping for oxygen. Her shoulders quaked uncontrollably. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed tight, holding on for dear life. Overwhelmed, the elder sister rode out the waves of emotions as they tossed her around as easily as a lifeboat in a hurricane.

When she could finally breathe, albeit shakily, Yang let her arms fall limply to her sides.

“Dad put Summer’s gravestone on top of a stone cliff overlooking the sea. There’s nothing but solid rock beneath it. Even to this day, Ruby still visits Summer’s gravestone and spends hours talking to it. It’s been so hard for her, to move on without any closure whatsoever.”

A wretched smile split across her tear soaked face. “Ruby’s done such a good job moving forward with her life and I’m _so proud_ of her for making it this far. But I know that she’s still carrying that pain in her heart.” Her voice quavered, “I can see it sometimes, just for a fraction of a second. When she sees a mother with her child, or when she sees white roses, or when she smells freshly baked cookies. Ruby will freeze for an instant, but then carry on smiling as though nothing had passed through her head.”

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Yang said, “All I want is to help my little sister find closure. That’s all I want. You have the answers that she needs to find that closure. You’re the only person in the world who can help her. I can’t help her. All I can do is beg for your help. And I’m fully prepared to do whatever it takes to convince you. I will do _anything and everything_ for her.”

Resolute eyes landed on Raven.

“Because that’s how much I love Ruby.”

* * *

 

Yang closed her eyes and fought back tears, her face tight with pain.

She felt a lightweight body sit down on the mattress beside her.

Ruby rested her cheek on her elder sister’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Yang.” the elfin girl whispered.

They held each other for as long as it took.

Then Yang resumed telling the story.

* * *

 

The black-haired Huntress held as still as a statue, head bowed low to the ground. She opened her mouth.

“To go _this_ far, just for the sake of a sibling…”

She lifted her eyes.

Contrite crimson locked with beseeching amethysts.

A desolate sigh passed through her entire body, as though her soul were departing through her lips.

“You’re a much better sister to Ruby than I ever was to Qrow.”

Then she turned her face away in shame.

She croaked.

“I can’t keep running from this forever, can I?”

Yang shook her head slowly.

Raven closed her eyes.

Finally, in a voice as grim as the grave,

“You’re right. It’s time that I faced my sins. You deserve to know what happened.”

Relief washed over Yang and purged the anguish that had clutched her heart so tightly. She smiled as warmly as she could while rubbing the remaining tears from her eyes. It was like watching golden sunlight breaking upon the blonde’s beautiful face.

“Whenever you’re ready to begin.” she said.

Slipping one hand into her scarlet _obi_ sash, Raven withdrew a round silver object. Yang recognized it as the same silver discus she had spotted on their first dreamtime meeting. Crimson eyes regarded it for a moment, then a frustrated grimace spread across Raven’s features.

“I’m afraid that this isn’t the time or the place.”

Yang’s face froze in a gobsmacked expression.

Raven quickly explained, “Hate to say it, but we’ve almost ran out of time. The sun is rising and there’s no telling when you’ll be woken up.” She held the object toward Yang. It turned out to be a pocket watch. But the hands of the clock were spinning much faster than normal. “Time moves differently in a dream than it does in real life. It’s unpredictable, so you never know how much time you’re going to have.”

Yang couldn’t keep the disappointment off her face. _“So goddamn close!”_ she shouted in her mind. Then aloud, “So when do we meet again, tomorrow night?”

Crimson eyes fell to the floor. The ebony clad Huntress exhaled heavily. “Yang, I want you to understand that doing this, telling this story, is going to take absolutely everything that I have. I won’t be able to tell it twice. Once I begin, _I cannot be stopped_ for any reason. I don’t have the willpower to start again, should I be interrupted.”

Nodding her golden crown, Yang assured, “I won’t interrupt you, I promise.”

Raven shook her head, “You’re not getting it. Yang, I can’t tell this story in this dream world. We could be interrupted at any moment. It’s not a very reliable form of communication.” She locked eyes with Yang and said, “We’re going to have to meet, face-to-face.”

Amethysts widened, “In the real world?”

“Yes.”

It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck Yang square in the back. She couldn’t sort through the emotions surging through her. Fear, trepidation, unease gripped her heart like a vice. But there was also eagerness and joy singing in her soul. _“She wants to meet me! I’m going to finally meet my mother in the flesh!”_

Stumbling over her words, “Oh--okay! Where should I— we—where are we gonna… um… uh…” Her hands wrought together anxiously. Then she slapped both of her cheeks simultaneously, leaving red handprints on her face. Laughing nervously, “Sorry, got kinda overexcited there.”

“Don’t get too worked up.” Raven cautioned. She pointed at herself, “Remember what I said the first night we met. The forms we take in the dream world don’t reflect our real selves. Right now, you’re seeing what I looked like in my mid-twenties. I’m actually the same age as your father and uncle, which is forty-four years old.”

Images of Uncle Qrow’s wrinkly, weathered face popped into Yang’s mind. “Hot damn, you’re fucking ancient!” she exclaimed loudly.

Raven’s eyes narrowed scornfully. Her face appeared as it would be if she had just bitten into a sour lemon. Incidentally, she wore the same expression as Qrow did the last time Yang called him an old-fogey. “Wanna run that by me again, ya little shit?” she snarled.

Cold sweat trickled down the back of Yang’s neck.

_“Note to self, don’t mention age around Branwens.”_

Out loud, she squeaked, “I didn’t say anything.”

Crossing her arms, Raven scoffed, “That’s what I thought.”

The red-eyed swordswoman dropped her death glare. She tilted her obsidian crown and thought aloud, “If we’re going to meet, then we need to think of a place to convene.”

Yang raised her hand and asked, “Why don’t you come to Beacon?”

“Absolutely not!” Raven suddenly shouted.

Recoiling from the abrupt rise in volume, the blonde asked, “Why not?”

Raven spoke sternly, “Because Beacon is not a safe place for us to meet.”

A tense atmosphere descended like a gloomy shroud. Raven’s expression was hard as stone.

Yang’s eyebrows furrowed tightly. She cocked her hips to the side and placed her hands on them. “Okay, you’ve said that every time we’ve met and I still don’t know what you mean. Why the hell isn’t Beacon safe?”

“Well, I was _going_ to tell you why Beacon isn’t safe the last time we met.” Raven fixed a pointed stare upon Yang. “But then _someone_ hijacked the conversation and made it all about your mommy issues.”

The dragoness gritted her teeth and spat, “You’re a real piece of work. Just tell me what you meant to say last time.”

Raven turned her gaze toward the window, where Beacon’s central spire was visible. Then she took another glance at her silver pocket watch. “We’re running out of time, so I’ll make this quick. Listen up and listen good.”

Yang nodded tersely.

Inhaling deeply, the Grimm Reaper began. “You and your team managed to stop the Breach and Roman Torchwick. He’s been locked up by the Atlesian military, so you’ve all lowered your guard by thinking that the battle was won. But you’re wrong.”

The blonde screwed her face up in confusion. In her personal dictionary, the word “winning” was followed by an image of Team RWBY high-fiving as they watch Roman being hauled away for his crimes. But she didn’t dare interrupt Raven.

“Roman Torchwick was not the mastermind behind the Breach. He was just the fall man, a pawn in a game larger than you could possibly imagine. The _true_ instigator is a nightmare of a woman known simply as…”

Anger roiled in crimson eyes, a tar black odium so unfathomably deep that it appeared bottomless.

“…The Queen.”

Shivers ran down Yang’s spine. “So wait, all that work we did was for _nothing?_ The real danger is still out there?!” she sounded shrill.

“You saved a bunch of lives, so don’t sell yourself short there. But you’re right, the Queen hasn’t been stopped, she’s only been _slightly_ inconvenienced by your team. If I know her, and I should considering how many years I’ve been fighting her, then the Queen has a back-up plan already in motion.”

Yang inquired, “So who _is_ this Queen anyways? What do you know about her?”

Clicking her tongue in irritation, Raven replied scathingly, “Not _fucking_ much. That’s the way she likes it too. The Queen controls her criminal empire from the shadows. Not even her closest business partners get to see her face. She never gives orders directly. All of her instructions pass through a vast network of proxies. It’s almost a hundred percent guarantee that Roman Torchwick received his orders through a proxy.”

“Damn.” Yang stamped the floor in frustration. “So even if Roman were to spill the beans, all he’d be able to do is point toward a proxy.”

“You’re catching on quick.” Raven nodded. “The Queen doesn’t tolerate failure, not in the slightest. I’m not surprised that Roman isn’t selling out the Queen for his life. No matter what protection he receives, the Queen’s hitmen would hunt Roman down and kill him in the most grotesque manner imaginable. He’s a dead man either way. His best bet for a painless death is lethal injection.”

“Alright, so the Queen is a bad bitch.” The blonde acknowledged, “But what does this have to do with Beacon Academy?”

The answer she received made her heart freeze over.

“I have reason to believe that the Queen has used the Vytal Festival to sneak agents into Beacon Academy.”

“What?!” Yang exploded. “Is that even possible?!”

“The timing is too perfect.” Raven stated. “The Vytal Festival is the only possible time that Beacon would be vulnerable for infiltration.”

Grasping the air, as though reaching for answers, Yang demanded. “But do you have proof?”

Raven shook her head. “All I have is my gut instincts. But I trust my intuition. It’s saved my life more times than I can count.”

The brawler fell silent and listened as Raven speculated aloud.

“The Queen must be hiding her spies within one of the foreign kingdom’s transfer students. I don’t know which kingdom, but my first guess would be Vacuo. There’s no shortage of villains from Vacuo. Don’t rule out the other kingdoms however.” She fixed a keen stare upon Yang. “Be suspicious of any foreign students that act too friendly. They could be agents of the Queen trying to get close to you.”

Crossing her arms, Yang pondered internally, _“I don’t think there’re any foreigners who’ve been overly friendly—”_

Suddenly, it struck her.

A blonde faunus with a monkey tail, a blue-haired boy with yellow goggles.

Every nerve ending in her body felt like it had been set ablaze, as though Yang had grabbed a live wire.

_“Sun and Neptune?! Could it be?!”_

Her shock must have been visible on her face, because Raven demanded hotly, “What? Have you thought of someone suspicious? Tell me who you’re thinking of!”

Yang waved her hands hurriedly, “I—I don’t—I’m not thinking of anyone! I’m just wrapping my head around the whole situation!”

Crimson eyes bore into amethysts, as if excavating for secret thoughts. It took every ounce of willpower within the dragoness to maintain eye contact.

Just when she couldn’t take another second,

“Fine. But don’t hesitate to give me names. The Queen’s men are deceitful and cunning. They can lie to your face and you wouldn’t suspect a thing. Don’t trust anyone, not when her spies are involved.”

Yang said, “I want to help you find these spies, but I need more to go on. Is there _anything_ else that you can tell me that’ll help me find these bastards?”

Raven cocked her head to the side and became quiet. Her gaze roamed around in a wide orbit as she contemplated. Then she lifted her left hand and stared into her palm.

“Alright, I have this.”

She turned her palm toward Yang, who gasped in surprise. Earlier, during the fight, Yang had spied a black tattoo-like mark on Raven’s hand. Now it was exposed in its entirety. A stygian symbol sat in her palm, contrasted sharply by pale skin. It appeared to be a pair of high-heeled slippers positioned sole to sole, forming a crooked heart in the center.

Without thinking, Yang reached out and ran her finger along the mark. The raised skin felt coarse to the touch. _“Not a tattoo, but a brand. This was burned into Raven’s hand.”_

A full second passed before Yang realized that she was touching her mother. Raven had frozen stiff at the sudden contact. The blonde recoiled away, just as if the mark were scalding iron.

Recovering quickly, Raven explained, “This is the Mark of the Queen. She brands it upon all of her slaves. If you see this symbol on anyone, then you’ve found the Queen’s agents.”

Blonde eyebrows rose in alarm. “But wait,” Yang sounded concerned, “what is it doing on your hand? Were you…?” Her voice trailed off.

The slayer shook her sable head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I was never a slave of the Queen.” She held her palm up and explained. “A long time ago, I found one of the Queen’s Dust quarries, where she was using slaves to mine for Dust. I happened to see a group of new slaves being branded. I could hear them screaming. Men, women…” Her tone darkened with anger, “…children…”

Burning hot rage filled Yang so completely that she could feel her heartbeat quickening. Her fingers curled into trembling fists. _“The Queen doesn’t even spare kids! I’ve never heard of anyone so despicable!”_

“I became so enraged that I acted without coming up with a plan. I teleported straight to the place where the new slaves were. A slaver was just about to brand a young child, so I caught the branding iron with my bare hand. Wasn’t thinking straight, probably. Hurt like a bitch. Nevertheless, I ripped the iron out of his hand and began smashing it on his skull again and again and again.” She swung her arm up and down, mimicking the brutal motions she was describing. “I put the Mark of the Queen directly into his brain matter. Then I laid assault on the whole excavation site.”

Yang grinned hotly, “You saved the slaves!”

“No.” Raven bowed her head.

The smile fell from Yang’s face.

“I killed the slavers as fast as I could. But there was too many of them, and they were dead-set on erasing all evidence. The Queen doesn’t like loose ends, you see. They detonated all of the Dust in the tunnel and wiped out everything. I only just managed to teleport away. There were no survivors.”

Crimson eyes stared emptily at the mark of shame burned into calloused skin.

Yang started, “You tried to save—”

“I failed!” Raven bellowed wrathfully. She squeezed her hands into fists, knuckles bleached white. Her teeth ground together hard enough that Yang could hear the sound. Self-loathing stained her words, “It never changes! I fail at everything that I do! The only thing that I’m good at is killing!”

Once again, Yang found herself paralyzed to help.

“Now you see what we’re up against. Now you know what the Queen is capable of. There is nothing that she won’t do to accomplish her goals. _Nothing!”_

“But what is the Queen’s goal?” the blonde questioned.

Raven strode over to the ceiling-high windows. She placed her scarred hand on the cold glass and peered out into the night. The shattered Moon was being lost behind towering clouds, casting a sinister shadow that threatened to swallow all the light in the world. One by one, each brilliant star was lost to darkness.

“I don’t know what she’s up to this time. What I do know is that the Queen has allied with the White Fang. She’s currently supplying them with military-grade weapons and armor, including Paladins stolen from Atlas. I have been attacking their outposts wherever I find them, and each one tells the same story.”

The Grimm Reaper’s voice fell to a threatening growl.

“The White Fang are moving all of their forces at once, converging everything they have upon the city of Vale.”

She turned around to face her daughter. Menacing storm clouds swept over Beacon’s central tower, engulfing its guiding light. The room became almost completely black. All that Yang could see of Raven were a pair of blood-red eyes burning like coals in the atramentous gloom.

“If you thought that the Breach was gruesome, then you don’t have the _slightest_ comprehension of the horrors that are coming.”

Ice-cold dread spread within Yang’s chest, threatening to freeze her heart.

“War is upon us.”

* * *

 

Team RWBY sat in silence. Raven’s ominous warning hung over their heads like a guillotine preparing to drop.

Ruby leaned against Yang. A sick feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. Her mind was a jumbled mess, a tornado of disconnected thoughts and overwhelming stress. Just hearing about her mother had been hard enough, but now there was a war inbound to her home? _“I’m scared. I don’t want to lead my friends into a war. What if I mess up again? What if the people I love die because of my mistakes?”_

She wrapped her arms around Yang in a hug. Yang reciprocated the embrace and squeezed strongly. The idea of the red-cloaked girl being thrown into a warzone terrified the blonde beyond reason. _“If anything happens to Ruby, would I ever be able to live with myself?”_ Her hand lightly brushed Ruby’s cherry-tipped locks, reassuring herself that her sister was still here.

Blake stood up and moved over to the open window. Setting her palms on the sill, she leaned out and let warm sunlight wash upon her slender frame. However, not even the sun could banish the chilling that ran through her veins. Troubled amber eyes stared out into the vast sky, which was as blue as a robin’s egg. _“If the White Fang attack in force, how will the rest of faunuskind fare in the aftermath? Will we be rounded up and thrown into concentration camps, just like during the Faunus War?”_

_“Where will the lines in the sand be drawn?”_

Weiss crossed her arms and bowed her head in concentration. Snow-white hair tumbled over her shoulders like glacial melt. Her eyebrows knotted tightly as she carefully considered everything that she had heard. _“What could the Queen’s plan be? Why on Remnant would she try and attack Vale now? It makes no sense, especially with the Atlesian military already in position to protect the city! Also, what could be the purpose for planting spies inside Beacon Academy? Are they scouting out our battle capabilities? There’s no need for that, we’re already going to be demonstrating everything for the tournament. Is there something special within Beacon that they’re looking for?”_

Then she looked at Yang. _“This Raven figure is also very suspicious. She sounds like a cold-blooded killer. Taking into account her mental problems, should we really be trusting her? Is it safe to let Yang meet such a volatile woman in person?”_

Everyone was lost in their individual thoughts, listlessly wandering the winding corridors of their own minds.

The one who spoke first was Ruby. She posed a simple question, “What happens next?”

Yang paused in stroking her sister’s hair to answer. “The last thing that happened was Raven made me promise that I wouldn’t fight any more crooks. I made her promise to find a meeting spot very soon. All we can do is wait, I suppose.”

Her tone darkened, “We also need to figure out who to trust.”

All eyes landed on the dragoness.

Yang looked at Blake. “Hey Blake, didn’t Sun say that he was from Vacuo?”

Catlike eyes narrowed. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Raven said that the Queen’s spies would most likely be Vacuan.”

Blake’s eyebrows shot straight up. “Yang! You aren’t seriously suggesting—”

Interrupting, “Remember when Sun told you about the shipment of Dust that the White Fang was going to steal? How did he know where the White Fang was going to hit?”

“He _didn’t_ know! It was just a lucky guess!” Blake shouted.

“Yeah, a _really_ lucky guess.” Yang sniped cruelly.

“If you recall, Sun also _helped_ us stop Roman and the White Fang from stealing the Dust. If Sun were really a spy for the Queen or a member of the White Fang or _whatever nonsense you’re suggesting,_ then why would he do that?!” Blake’s face became red with anger.

Crossing her arms, “Maybe Sun’s mission is to earn your trust. You _are_ a likely target for the Fang.”

The feline faunus stomped the floor, “Yang! Stop it! You’re becoming just as paranoid as Raven!” She bared pointed incisors as she seethed.

Weiss interjected, “I agree with Blake. It’s far, _far_ too soon to begin a witch-hunt. There’s not even any proof that the Queen has spies in Beacon. We need more details before we do anything else.”

Yang growled, “I’m just worried that we’re putting ourselves at risk by inviting someone we _hardly even know_ inside our circle of friends. We’ve screwed up the Queen’s plans more than once. She probably has it out for us and we should be on our guard!”

The pit in Ruby’s stomach only deepened as she listened to her teammates bickering. Personally, Ruby really liked Sun Wukong. He was fun and cool and kind of a dork. The idea that he could be a baddie was upsetting. But she couldn’t spend time feeling distressed. Right now, her friends were fighting each other. It was time for her to step up as leader.

She jumped to her feet and shouted with a commanding voice, “Stop it, all of you!”

All at once, everyone ceased arguing.

“Right now, we can’t afford to be at each other’s necks. There’s still too much we don’t know. All we have is a symbol that could be hidden anywhere on their bodies. Yang, unless you wanna strip search each and every foreign student, we’re stuck at square one.”

Yang grumbled under her breath, something about a school-wide game of strip-poker, but nonetheless didn’t raise an argument.

Ruby nodded her head once. “Then it’s settled. There’s no point in getting worked up if we can’t do anything anyways. Until we get more information from Raven, we pretend like nothing’s happened and go about our normal days.”

Blake and Weiss nodded alongside their leader. After a moment, Yang joined them and the entire team synchronized bobbing heads. The weight lifted off their shoulders as the nerve-wracking atmosphere bled out of the room. With the tension gone, exhaustion took its place.

“If we’re all done here, I’m going to get some well-deserved sleep.” Weiss groaned as she meandered toward her awaiting bed with a zombie-like gait.

“Right behind you.” Ruby followed her partner toward their bunk beds.

“Thank god it’s Saturday.” Blake murmured, eyelids already dropping.

“What?” Yang grinned as she watched her teammates crawling into their respective beds. “How can you girls be sleepy? I just went twelve rounds with Raven and I’m still…”

She pointed toward the black scorch mark on the ceiling.

“…fired up!”

A barrage of pillows silenced the dragoness.


	29. Lunar Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team LUNA assembles. Partially. With difficulty. Being Neo is suffering.

The sun shone from the peak of its ascent, beating down upon a pair of women as they strolled side-by-side through downtown Vale. The crisp stench of sea salt and fish grew stronger as they approached the city's wharf.

A big sunny smile adorned the face of one woman. Sprinkles of glitter sparkled on her round, rosy cheeks. Long, chestnut brown tresses were tied up in pigtails by a variety of cute and colorful bows. Her feet left the ground as she frolicked cheerfully through the dilapidated district. "Hey Licky?" she chirped in a singsong voice, "Are we there yet?"

The second woman frowned before answering, her voice low and gravely, "Don't call me that. And no, we aren't there yet."

Her skin was a complexion similar to cocoa beans. She had short and spikey hair, colored red like bloodied spines. Knee high boots carried her swiftly down the street. Almond-shaped green eyes remained locked in their forward direction, ignoring her jovial acquaintance with single-minded determination.

The first woman skipped merrily just to keep up with her tall companion as they both rounded a street corner. "Are we there yet?" she repeated in the exact same tone as before.

A prominent vein throbbed in the dark-skinned woman's left temple. " _No_. You just asked, Ube, now shut up."

Not even being reprimand could deflate Ube's abundant excitement. "Aren't you excited, Liquorice? I just can't wait to get there and see our new teammates! I bet they're gonna be so-o-o-o cool!" She clasped her hands together and giggled. Stars shone in chocolate brown eyes.

"I just hope they're strong. I'd hate to have to carry the whole team." Liquorice muttered.

Balancing on her toes, Ube exclaimed, "I really wanna meet Akayami Redacted! She sounds really mysterious!"

Liquorice halted in mid-step, blinking rapidly. "Wait a minute." she rounded on her cohort and asked, "Do you really think that Akayami's last name is Redacted?"

"That's what was on the file." Ube answered simply.

"Oh my god, you're getting stupider every day." The redhead groaned and dragged her palms down her face. "Okay, listen carefully because I don't want you to embarrass me when we finally get there. Are you listening?"

Ube nodded her auburn crown vigorously.

"Akayami's last name is _not_ Redacted. Her last name _was_ redacted."

"So, she got married and changed her name?"

"No!" Liquorice made an exasperated noise. "Her last name was never Redacted, it was removed!"

"So, her name was Akayami Removed before she got married?"

" _NO!"_ she roared. "She isn't married! Her name isn't Redacted or Removed! Her last name was stripped from the file! We don't know what her last name is! Akayami's last name is _unknown!"_

"O-o-o-h!" Ube's mouth formed the vowel. Then she sang, "I got it now!"

"Finally!" Liquorice threw her hands up toward the sky. Breathing heavily, she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Just do me a favor and _don't say a word_ around our new boss. It would be very inconvenient if she found out how brainless you are."

"Okie-dokie!" Ube karate chopped her forehead with an overenthusiastic salute, leaving a bright red mark on her brow.

Sighing, the redhead turned and resumed walking toward their destination. Ube quickly fell in step with her friend, prancing all the way. Four feet later,

"Are we there yet?"

* * *

 

Neo sat on top of a large crate, legs hanging leisurely over the sides. She twirled Miss Fortune between her fingers, the lacey parasol fluttered lightly with every revolution. Roman Torchwick's signature bowler cap rested upon her multicolored crown. Two sheets of paper laid beside her. Both sheets were dossiers detailing two members of Team LUNA.

She was in a far wing of the plant, far away from the ever-toiling White Fang. The faunus worked day in and day out, building _something_ deep within the recesses of the warehouse. Cinder Fall had provided blueprints and Adam put his soldiers to work building it. She didn't know what it was, except that it was massive. It dwarfed the Atlesian Paladins many times over, and it wasn't even finished yet. Neo surmised that it must be a weapon. Judging by the sheer size of the Dust batteries being installed, this weapon would be unimaginably powerful. A gleeful shiver skittered up her spine. She couldn't wait to see it in action.

Her ears picked up the sound of distant voices. Both female. Straining to listen, Neo could hear short snippets of conversation.

"This place is so-o-o-o big!"

"There's the stink of faunus in the air."

"ECHO!" The word rebounded off the walls.

"Be quiet!"

The voices drew closer until the speakers finally came into view. Neo picked up the dossiers and compared the pictures to the approaching women. There was no mistake, they were Liquorice Sicariidae and Ube Muffet. Mismatched eyes narrowed as she inspected the women.

Liquorice was a tall, dark woman with thin, molded shoulders and bell-shaped hips. Her needlelike hair swept away from her face. Maroon eyeliner was applied beneath her green eyes. Strangely, there were four more stripes of eyeliner upon her broad forehead, two stacked above each eye. Twin rings perforated her lower lip, a style of piercings called spider bites.

Her clothes must have attracted quite a lot of attention on the street. She wore a bronze-colored catsuit that covered her entire upper body but bared her long, well-toned legs. The glossy spandex clung to her voluptuous body like a second skin, emphasizing her womanly curves and leaving little to the imagination. Over her outfit was a brown leather tactical harness. Equipment pouches hung from the harness for quick and easy access. The leather straps crisscrossed in such a way that it appeared like a spider's web. In the center of the web lay her symbol: a burgundy fiddle with severed strings shaped into a heart.

She walked in russet knee-high boots. A number of steel bands wound up her ankles and calves, offering protection from blades. Their weight must have been considerable, but Liquorice sauntered with ease. Upon her arms were a pair of steel bracers, which Neo surmised to conceal her weapons of choice. While the dossier made mention of Liquorice's weapons and abilities, she had intentionally avoided reading those parts. Such things were best observed in person.

Diverting her attention away from Liquorice, Neo examined her second teammate.

The two women could not be any more different. Where Liquorice was tall and lean, Ube was short and stout with more body fat than would be expected from a Huntress. Her pudgy physique did not inspire any confidence, nor did the big wide smile plastered on her pale face.

Ube wore a violet ball gown with a floor-length skirt. Lacy pink frills decorated the skirt and hems of her dress. The neckline of her dress was ornamented with bunched pink embellishments. Even more pink trimmings were sewn along the inside of her sleeves. Ube's gown appeared like a purple multi-tiered cake with strawberry icing. Sitting upon her chestnut crown was a mauve top hat complete with a pink ribbon.-

It was death by froufrou.

Something about the skirt drew Neo's eyes. She stared intently at the pink frills until she thought the sheer amount of bad fashion would blind her. Then she spied the thin slits and realization dawned on her. There were dozens upon dozens of pockets circling the skirt. Every opening was highlighted by pink frills.

The tricolored girl was perplexed. What on Remnant does this girl need so many pockets for? Does she put her weapons in there or what?

As it turned out, the answer was both. Just as Neo began pondering the mystery of the pockets, Ube inserted her hands into two of them. One hand produced an obsidian spherical device that could only be described as a softball-sized _bomb_. A quick estimation put its circumference at twelve inches. On the surface of the explosive was her symbol: a cutesy human skull with a cartoonish bomb, complete with a lit wick, clenched between its teeth.

Her other hand held a fistful of hard candies. Without hesitation, the brunette stuffed the candies in her mouth and started sucking on the sweet treats in earnest. She hummed pleasantly, a happy expression on her face.

The size of the grenade gave Neo a start. She has seen containers of Dust half that size explode with enough force to derail a train. If that bomb exploded, not even Aura could do much to stop it. But explosives by themselves don't truly qualify as an armament. They're just ammunition. Bombs require a mode of transport, a weapon to launch them.

A peculiarly shaped wooden object was strapped to Ube's back. It was easily as tall as she was. Neo decided that must be Ube's weapon. Whatever it was. Such things were best observed in person, after all.

It was then that the two women noticed Neo. Pink and brown met green and brown.

Liquorice tilted her head and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her eyes roamed the petite murderess, then lingered on the parasol in Neo's hand.

Suddenly, a high pitched shriek erupted from Ube, her hands clapped over her round cheeks.

"Ohmi _gosh!_ Looky looky, it's Neo!" she squealed as she pointed giddily.

Neo's heart sank at the prospect of spending _any_ amount of time with this frivolous creature. A considerably large part of her wanted to run away. She hated the idea of teaming up with complete strangers. She already had a partner, Roman Torchwick. Together, they made the perfect duo. His sharp, silver tongue and her deadly illusions were an unbeatable combo. Everyone else was beneath them. He was the only person in the whole wide world who had proven worthy of Neo. When she was with him, Neo felt as though she could lower her walls and simply be herself. Only Roman has seen her true form.

Every fiber of her being revolted against the notion of working with a team. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. For Roman's sake, Neo would set aside her pride and work with a group.

After, of course, she had thoroughly vetted her teammates. It was for this very reason that Neo volunteered to be the welcoming committee. Her plan was to meet her would-be teammates and put their skills to the test. It had been her only stipulation, that she should be allowed to judge their worth. Cinder simply shrugged her shoulders and accepted. "If they don't survive, then they weren't worth my money anyways." said the regal pyromancer with an airy wave of her hand.

Ube shrugged the wooden weapon off her back. It landed on the floor with a mighty _chunk._ The concrete cracked beneath its weight.

Giggling, the chubby Huntress ran straight up to Neo and extended an open hand. Neo made no move to accept the handshake, instead swinging one leg over the other while remaining seated upon the crate. Undeterred, Ube clapped her hands together and started prattling like an idiot, "When I saw your picture, I thought that you were, like, the _cutest_ thing I've ever seen! But you're even cuter in person!"

Listening to the halfwit was like shoving rusted twelve inch nails into her ear canals. Neo cringed at every word that came out of the woman's mouth. Both eyes converted to pink as her annoyance mounted.

"You're so adorable that I could just gobble you up!" Ube gushed with mindboggling bonhomie.

The curve of Neo's jaw flexed as she ground her teeth.

"We should hang out! Can you imagine how fun that would be?"

Pink and brown eyebrows knotted together.

"We can paint our nails, try on clothes, and talk about cute food!"

Small fingers curled into such tight fists that her leather gloves creaked.

"Do you like ice-cream? I've gotta feeling that you do. Me? I lo-o-o-ve ice-cream!"

A vein throbbed in her left temple.

"I think we're gonna be be-e-e-e-st friends!"

She could feel her blood pressure rising with every passing second.

"I'm gonna give you a hug!"

Ube spread her arms wide open and lunged. The overly affectionate fool was surprisingly fast for her shape.

But Neo was faster. Her Semblance activated with a cornea-searing burst of light, like an old-fashioned camera bulb. Ube stumbled backwards, rubbing balled fists against her eyes. Liquorice squeezed her eyes shut and scowled. While the two women were temporarily blinded, Neo cast her image behind her targets, forming an illusory doppelganger while simultaneously rendering herself invisible.

Ube forced her eyes open, blinking rapidly, and gasped at the seemingly empty space on top of the crate. Her eyes stared straight through Neo. A confused expression plastered across her face. Then her auburn head spun on a swivel until her gaze landed on the mirage.

"Oh, _there_ you are!" Ube exclaimed. "Come back here!"

Neo mentally commanded the mirage to run away. Ube leaped into the chase, laughing merrily.

At this point, Neo made her mind about Ube. There was _no way in hell_ that this blithering moron was strong enough to be a worthy teammate. She would have simply killed Ube right out, it would be as simple as stabbing through her spine, fourth lumbar down, the abdominal aorta. The imbecile had her back turned at this very moment. Her full attention was facing forward so her Aura wouldn't protect her from an assassination from behind. One stiff stab. One less headache. It would be simple and easy and oh, so satisfying.

But, there was someone else to be tested. Liquorice had turned around as well to watch Ube pursue the mirage. Neo slipped off the crate and landed silently on the concrete floor. She gripped Miss Fortune with one hand and drew Miss Behave with the other, the oiled blade glided out of its sheath without a single noise. As she skulked into Liquorice's shadow, a sickening smile crawled across her lips like a centipede.

Neo tightened her grip on her sword's hilt, aimed for the sweet spot, just left of the spine, and thrust.

A blur of motion. Metal clanging on metal. Sparks jettisoned into the air. The impact shocked up her arm and into her shoulder.

Miss Behave had been blocked by Liquorice's weapon. A triangular blade unfolded from the steel bracers on the redhead's right wrist. It was a _katar_ dagger, judging from the horizontal handgrip. A second dagger emerged from the left bracer with a chittering _ch-ch-ch-ch-chink._

Mismatched eyes widened. How could Liquorice see through Neo's illusion?

The skin on Liquorice's brow began to ripple and bulge. Then her forehead split open, revealing _four more eyes._ Each pair of eyes were a different color. Smaller blue eyes peered down from on top of her normal green. The top set were tiny as beads and red as blood. It was now apparent that the markings on her forehead were eyeliner. This was not a woman who concealed her heritage, instead she underlined her true nature with brazen pride.

"I see you." sneered Liquorice Sicariidae, the spider faunus.

Neo's eyes became snow white. Pictures of Liquorice's extra eyes had not prepared her for the startling sight. Too shocked to think, she forgot to maintain her Semblance. Her invisibility slipped away.

In a far corner of the room, Neo's mirror image froze in place, reflecting her current state. Ube caught up and enveloped the illusion with a rib wrecking embrace. Suddenly, "Neo" shattered like glass in her arms. The dimwitted girl watched the shards fall to the floor at her feet.

"Oh no!" she cried out, "I hugged Neo too hard!"

Meanwhile,

With a sharp flick of her right wrist, Liquorice deflected Miss Behave and instantly followed up with a thrust from her left blade. Neo tilted her small body to the side, allowing the dagger to come within centimeters to her throat. She swung Miss Fortune in a low arc toward Liquorice's ankle. The faunus countered by kicking the stick away. Lunging forward, Liquorice slashed high and low in rapid succession. Neo escaped with an expertly timed backflip, dodging both attacks while swinging her boot up into Liquorice's chin. The spider's head snapped back with a pained grunt. She staggered in reverse, but recovered quickly.

They stood apart, eyeing their opponent critically. Liquorice rolled her jaw, working out the pain.

At an unheard command, they closed the distance. Blades sang in anticipation of bloodletting. Razor-sharp edges _hissed_ like a chorus of serpents. Sparks scattered where their weapons clashed. The ringing of steel echoed throughout the chamber.

Neo's sword was a blur as she attacked with a barrage of swift strokes, each glancing off of metal bracers. As soon as the assault ended, Liquorice counterattacked. She thrust repeatedly, daggers flashing in the fluorescent light. Neo danced around the blades with apparent ease, dipping and ducking and weaving as though she didn't have a care in the world. A frustrated snarl escaped from Liquorice's throat.

The spider dropped low and swept her leg at Neo's feet. Neo kicked off the ground and leaped high into the air. Moving quickly, Liquorice pointed her hand at the aerial target. The dagger flipped back, revealing a narrow gun barrel below the steel bracer. Immediately, Neo positioned Miss Fortune to the front and _popped_ her open.

Instead of a gunshot, however, there was a quiet _pssh_ like a suppresser. Neo felt the projectiles impact on her parasol, making a curious _thwap_ sound. She peeked over Miss Fortune. Several thin strands, glistening like wet silk, stuck to the surface of the parasol. Multicolored eyes traced the threads where they led back to Liquorice's hand. Webbing, Neo realized too late.

Liquorice pulled hard on her web-line and yanked Miss Fortune from Neo's fingers. The sudden action threw Neo off balance. She tumbled to the concrete and landed heavily on her back. All of the air expelled from her lungs with a groaning wheeze. The ceiling spun like a top above her flat body.

Stabbing her sword into the floor, Neo leveraged herself to a standing position. Her eyes landed on Miss Fortune lying on the ground in the distance. She bolted straight for her mislaid parasol. Liquorice dropped from above, landing between her and Miss Fortune. Before Neo could react, both of the spider's daggers slashed in a scissor-motion at her throat. The keen edges suddenly halted on either side of her pale neck.

Liquorice smirked victoriously, "Looks like I win."

Neo shook her head slowly and returned the smirk. Liquorice felt a sharp poke against her lower abdomen. Glancing down, the spider discovered Miss Behave prodding her hypogastric region. Had both combatants completed their attacks, it would have been a mutual-kill.

They stared at each other, still as statues locked in stalemate. Identical grins adorned their faces.

"Not bad," Liquorice sneered, "for a half-pint."

"Not bad," Neo spoke aloud for the first time, "for a _cattivo_ spider."

Simultaneously, they stepped back and lowered their weapons. Liquorice pointed her bracer behind her, fired a thin web-strand, and reeled Miss Fortune into her awaiting hand. Then she presented Neo with the parasol. The diminutive girl reunited Miss Behave with Miss Fortune, and then twirled the combined weapons daintily.

"So, I'm guessing that your sneak attack was a test." Liquorice crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Nodding her multicolored crown, Neo answered, "The Queen gave me permission to test your skills. She wanted to know whether her investments were worth her money…" She redirected her gaze to Ube. "…or not."

Ube was kneeling in the corner of the room, picking up broken pieces of Neo's shattered mirage. She pressed two shards together like a jigsaw puzzle. When the fragments failed to fit together, she whined in distress. The daft damsel muttered something about corner pieces.

"Oh my god." Liquorice shouted, "Ube, you dumbass, what're you doing?!"

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO KILL HER!" Ube wailed as she spun around. Then her eyes landed on the real Neo, who was shaking her head in disapproval. She threw her hands toward the ceiling and exclaimed at the top of her lungs, "NEO! YOU'RE ALIVE!"

As soon as Ube started running toward her, Neo stomped her boot and shouted, "That's enough!"

The portly Huntress stopped in her tracks, head tilted in confusion.

"I have had it up to _here_ with your incessant drivel and childish frivolity!" Neo's accent became thicker as she raged. "This was a test and _you failed at every turn!_ You let your guard down right from the very beginning! You never even suspected a trap! If I so desired, I could have assassinated you at any time! You're lucky that I didn't stab you in the back. The fact that you still breathe is only because I'm sparing you."

Ube placed her hands on her hips and harrumphed. "You've got it wrong. The reason that I don't keep my guard raised isn't because I'm stupid. It's because I don't need to be on my guard. Even if you had tried a sneak attack, you wouldn't have been able to kill me."

Mismatched eyes narrowed. Before she answered, Neo triggered her Semblance. But this time was completely different than the first one. This time, there was no telltale flash of light. This time, there was no tell whatsoever.

Back when Neo first developed her powers, she could only execute one aspect of her Semblance after the other. She could either become unseen first or cast an illusion first. Roman saw potential for more, and he was an unrelenting taskmaster. He had forced her to practice over and over, dusk until dawn, day in and day out. He would stand in front of Neo in a small, enclosed, brightly lit room, and watch her every movement. If he saw her so much as budge a single muscle, Roman would bop her on the head with Melodic Cudgel. Her task was to be able to cast an illusion so perfectly subtle that even he couldn't tell the moment that Neo pulled it off. She had to perform slight-of-hand in direct sight.

All of those tiresome days finally paid off when Neo managed to dupe Roman, right in front of him. Upon realizing that she wasn't going to be caned, the young girl snuck all the way around to his backside and gave it a mighty kick. The ginger criminal nearly hit the ceiling. Roman didn't get mad. Instead, he showered her with praise and told Neo that she was officially his number one minion. That was the proudest day of her life, a treasured recollection stored in her memory chest.

Now, it was like second nature to Neo. She could lay a mirage while simultaneously turning herself invisible with ease. Even if someone were watching closely, even if they were expecting it to happen, they would not detect the instant that Neo traded places with a mirage. Her Semblance was honed to a microscopic edge.

Even as Ube looked on, Neo rendered herself invisible, stepped to the side, and laid an illusory reflection in her place, all in a single motion. Ube didn't detect a thing. She just kept staring straight ahead at the fake Neo, which allowed the real one to circle around.

Liquorice, on the other hand, tracked the real Neo just the same as if she were perfectly visible. She smiled in amusement, but didn't inform Ube of the impending danger.

The fake Neo pointed toward the exit and spoke aloud. "You failed your test. Leave now. I'm giving you a chance to escape with your life."

"You're not even going to _try_ and kill me?" Ube pouted, "That's just rude!"

"Do you actually want me to assassinate you?" the mirage asked in disbelief.

"That's right!" Ube placed her hands over her eyes. "I'll make it easy for you. Stab me anywhere you like. I won't look."

"Don't say I didn't give you a chance." the double said slowly.

By making her mirage speak, Neo was guiding Ube's attention. Roman had taught her the art of misdirection. If Ube believed that Neo was in front of her, then her Aura would distribute to the front. At this very second, the dumb dame didn't even suspect that the attack would come from behind. There would be no Aura to protect her from a single killing strike.

Neo drew her sword, nary a whisper of warning. She crouched low and tucked her legs beneath her. Her fingers tightened around the hilt. Then she leaped like a coiled spring toward the broad target.

Miss Behave plunged into Ube's spine.

The tip of the blade erupted from her chest.

Liquid gushed from the wound and splashed all over Neo's hands.

* * *

Neo slouched in a chair at the conference table, an irate scowl darkening her face. She rested her head in one hand while her other was occupied with drumming out an angry rhythm. A hundred furious thoughts raged in her mind, all of them focused at the other woman in the room.

"I told you." Ube beamed from across the table. "You can't sneak attack me."

The tricolored assassin only glared harder.

Wiping at her many eyes, Liquorice whooped with uncontrollable laughter. "I've never laughed so hard in my life! I'm friggin' crying with all six eyes! My whole face is wet!"

Louder and louder the drumming grew.

"You stuck her with your sword, _then fell flat on your face!_ It was like, stab, splash, _splat!"_ She threw her head back and dissolved in peals of laughter. "I knew exactly what was gonna happen too! Saw it coming a mile away! I should've got it on camera!"

Ube reached in a pocket and produced a lollipop. "Wanna piece of candy? It'll make you feel better."

Snarling under her breath, "I hate both of you."

A light _clink_ pierced the tense atmosphere.

Neo immediately froze in place, eyes converting to white.

 _Clink, clink, clink._ It drew closer.

Ube and Liquorice turned to face the source of the noise.

Cinder Fall strode into the room, glass slippers _clinking_ on the concrete. Burning eyes glowed like molten gold, reflecting the inferno that roared within. Full lips curved up in a pleased smile at the sight of her newest subordinates. Curvaceous hips swung like a pendulum with every step. Her crimson dress fluttered faintly as her long, tempting legs carried her to the conference table. The lush material rippled as it caught the light.

Liquorice's six eyes locked onto the approaching woman. Then she ripped her gaze away and harshly whispered something to Ube, who promptly stuffed the lollipop in her mouth and shut it tight.

"I'm guessing that you must be the one who hired us." the spider-faunus said.

"Your conjecture is accurate." Cinder replied. One willowy hand flipped her smoke-black hair over her naked shoulder, then rested on her shapely hips.

"My name is Cinder Fall, and _I_ am the Queen."

Cinder started pacing in circles around Liquorice. "I'm pleased to see that you both passed Neo's little test. I hope you don't mind, but I felt the need to assess prospective employees."

Neo slapped her hands on the table. "They didn't pass! I handed them both a failing grade! Find someone else, not these two pieces of trash!"

Giving her an aside glance, Cinder retorted with, "They survived, did they not?"

Arms crossed, the tiny girl slouched in her chair.

Cinder returned her attention to Liquorice and Ube. She steepled her slender fingers as she spoke.

"I have brought you here because I have need of your talents. The two of you have a set of skills that I could use in my plans. Since you have arrived, I will deposit your hiring fee into your accounts, as agreed upon."

"Thank you." Liquorice said. "Speaking of payment, our contract is that we're paid per mission. That being the case, I would like to get started on one immediately."

Cinder placed an elegant hand over her lips and laughed softly. "I certainly _appreciate_ your enthusiasm. However, the mission that I have in mind requires the full collaborative of Team LUNA. Unfortunately, your fourth and final teammate has yet to arrive."

Liquorice tilted her head, "Her name is Akayami, right? When is she slated to arrive?"

The Queen stopped smiling. _"That_ is a question that I would like to have answered myself."

"Don't you know where she is?"

She explained with a disappointed tone, "Miss Akayami has ceased taking my calls as of two nights ago. She was not much further away than you two were. She travels alone, so in theory she should have been able to make the voyage quicker. I do not know her current location or what she's doing."

"That's not a good sign." Liquorice remarked.

"Quite."

"So, what is our first mission anyways?" the spider questioned.

Neo stood up and gave the answer. "Our mission is to free Roman Torchwick from a maximum security prison!"

Ube could not contain her silence any longer. "O-o-o-oh! A prison break? Those are so much fun!"

"Actually," Cinder interjected, "that is _not_ your first task."

"What?!" Neo blurted.

Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, the Queen stated firmly, "Team LUNA's first mission is to infiltrate a top-secret storage facility and steal a weapon. This weapon is referred to as The N.V. Project."

"But what about Roman?" the tricolored girl demanded.

"At this moment, a full battalion of Atlesian forces is stationed to defend the Black Citadel Detention Center. A direct assault is doomed to fail. However, N.V. is a very powerful weapon. It will make rescuing Roman a walk in the park. That is why I must have it."

"Roman's execution is in six days!" Neo argued, "How long are we going to wait for this Akayami to arrive? What if she doesn't?! You said that you were going to take responsibility! How do you—"

Golden eyes locked onto pink. A sharp chill ran down the Neo's spine. She vividly remembered the last time she spoke against Cinder. Her fingers traced her throat gingerly.

"Are you done?" murmured the fiery sorceress.

Mollified, the small girl sat down and remained perfectly silent.

"Good. Now, to answer your question concerning Akayami's absence. The mission begins in three nights. Atlas is currently reallocating their forces to provide security to the Vytal Festival. Three nights from now, the storage facility will have fewer guards than it does today." Cinder gestured to herself, "If Akayami does not arrive in three nights, then _I will personally take her place."_

Turning to Liquorice, "I will debrief you all on the details of the mission at that time. Are there any questions?"

"Just one. What are we supposed to do in the meantime?"

"I keep a loose leash on my subordinates." Cinder said. "Until I have need of you, you have permission to roam the city and do whatever you please. Just so long as it doesn't bring attention to my operation."

The spider only smirked.

Turning, Cinder Fall strode away from the incomplete team. She waved dismissively behind her. "The meeting is finished. Neo will show you to your quarters."

* * *

Three sets of footfalls echoed down a hallway. Neo walked in front of her two teammates.

Liquorice rolled her shoulders, "Thank god we don't have to stay cooped up in this shabby warehouse. I hear there's a lot of _fun_ to be had in this city."

"We've been walking a-a-a-all day." Ube complained. "I just wanna sit down and soak my feet in a nice cold bowl of herbal water."

"Maybe if you lost some weight, your feet wouldn't ache so much."

"But then there'd be less of me to love!"

Shaking her head, Liquorice remarked, "I hope our luggage arrives soon. I'm planning to have a night on the town and I brought the perfect little number for the job. Ube, you interested?"

"Of course!" she smiled wide. "If we can get Neo to come with us, then it'll be a Girl's Night Out!"

Ahead, Neo mentally calculated the chances of that happening and came out with a negative percentage.

"Oh! And if Akayami _Unknown_ arrives, then the whole team can spend some quality bonding time together!" Ube giggled in anticipation.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

"What?" Neo blinked upon realizing what Ube just said.

Liquorice slapped her forehead.


	30. Girls' Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neo is dragged along for a night on the town. Shenanigans ensue.

Neo was two minutes from understanding the minds of people who snap and kill all their accomplices in blood-soaked rage.

“What do you mean, I have to go with them?” she said with an unintended whine.

Cinder Fall remained facing away while seated in her large chair. Before her was a massive mahogany table standing upon six legs, the entire surface of which was laden with a mountain of papers, maps, and photographs. Several books were scattered around haphazardly.

Directly in front of the Queen laid open a dense tome. Its pages were yellowed with time, the cover was cracked and dirty leather and the alphabetical symbols were completely alien to Neo. Was it a dead language? Since the Great War, artifacts containing extinct vernacular were exceedingly rare.

Fresh scribbles filled the sheets, crammed in the margins and between the lines. While these words were in the standard language, Cinder’s angular handwriting was unintelligible to everyone but herself. An expert of graphology would have a field day examining the personality traits behind those sharply slanted scrawls.

“I’m curious as to how you could misinterpret my words.” Her voice was soft and even, like the surface of a tranquil pond.

Neo walked around the messy table and planted herself opposite of Cinder. She crossed her arms and cocked her hips to the side. “It makes no sense. I have zero interest in their plans tonight. Why should I accompany Liquorice and Ube while they traipse around Vale like a pair of fools?”

Leaning back in her throne, Cinder steepled her elegant fingers. “You have been under a considerable amount of stress lately. This is reasonable, considering your guardian’s situation.” The tone she used was surprisingly gentle, almost soothing.

That changed as she continued, “What has _not_ been reasonable is your behavior. You have been constantly skulking around, carrying your sword in the open, and harassing the White Fang workers who are supposed to be building my weapon. This is a problem.”

She pursed her lips tightly, giving Neo a moment to consider her own activities.

The moment passed and Cinder spoke again. “Now, this problem can be solved one of two ways. Either I punish you for your misconduct, or you leave this base and go along with your new teammates for their,” waving her hand abstractedly, “girls’ night out.”

“Both of those options sound equally torturous.” Neo deadpanned.

Fire blossomed to life in Cinder’s palm, raising the temperature in the room. Shadows lengthened away from the fiery orange ball. Cinder’s facial expression was lost to the deepening darkness. Only a pair of golden orbs remained visible.

“Are you sure you wish you test that theory?” asked the Queen.

Beads of sweat formed on Neo’s brow. She quickly shook her multicolored hair. The flames extinguished as quickly as they came.

“Good, then you will leave with your team and spend the night unwinding.”

Crumbling so easily made Neo burn with shame inside. She dared one last objection. “If you want me out of your hair, then just tell me to go. I’ll leave and find somewhere discreet to relieve my stress. But why should I be chained to Liquorice and Ube?” she demanded.

“You are part of a team now. As I’ve said before, it would be in your best interest to try and get along with them. A team functions best when the members are well acquainted with each other, after all.”

One minute from snapping.

“You are dismissed. Don’t come back before the other two,” said Cinder with a tone of finality.

* * *

 

Ube couldn’t be happier with the news. She gushed in delight, “O-o-oh, I’m so happy that you’re coming with us! This is gonna be the best Girls’ Night Out _ever!”_ The excitable woman wore a violet dress with matching evening gloves that reached past her elbow. Her knee-length skirt was decorated with sequins. Every move she made caused the sequins to flash in the light.

On the other hand, Liquorice was not as thrilled. She crossed her arms and said, “You’re not going to be a sourpuss this whole night, are you?” Her dress was a rich scarlet color, matching her hair. The garb hung loosely off her shoulders and ended at thigh level, baring her well-toned legs. Its neckline plunged deep, pushing her breasts together so that wanderlust eyes might explore the enticing valley. A wreath of matinee necklaces adorned her neck and a pair of studs pierced her lower lip. Steel bracers concealing _katar_ daggers rested on her wrists. She wasn’t going anywhere without her weapons

“If you ignore me, then I’ll ignore you,” Neo said simply. “I won’t hamper your night if you don’t try to force me into it any more than I already have.”

Liquorice nodded her crimson crown. “Fair enough.” She pointed at Neo and said, “But aren’t you a well-known criminal in these parts? How are you going to walk the city streets without anyone recognizing you?”

“Like this.”

Neo lifted one hand toward the ceiling. With a flourish, she poked herself on the very top of her multicolored head. Her hair began to change color, starting from the zenith. Pitch dark locks replaced pink and brown. It gave the impression of crude oil springing from her crown and pouring down her hair. Neo swiped her hands across her eyes, turning them bright green. After sucking in her lips, she popped them out with a pucker to reveal obsidian lipstick. To top off her makeover, the illusionist tapped her cheek with her index finger. A perfectly circular beauty mark appeared beside her lips.

“That’s a handy trick,” Liquorice said. “But what have you brought to wear?”

“Anything and everything,” Neo replied with an air of haughtiness.

Rings of light traveled around the girl’s petite body. Her usual Victorian-era outfit was transformed into a jet-black high-halter cocktail dress. A beautiful pattern of alabaster flower petals drifted from her neckline, down one side of her frame, and pooled at the hem of her dress. Long, narrow slits in the luxurious material teased milky white skin of her trim hips. Stygian stilettoes sheathed Neo’s feet, propping her up on her nimble toes.

The finishing touch, a pure white rose, blossomed within Neo’s ebony tresses.

Liquorice whistled wolfishly and said, “You get points for fashion, half-pint.”

Clapping her hands ecstatically, Ube cried out, “O-o-o-oh my gosh, Neo! You look so… so…” She made a sound like a balloon leaking air.

She wouldn’t admit it, but a small measure of pleasure bourgeoned Neo’s heart upon hearing such words of praise. They may be fools, but at least they can appreciate fine art.

“Alright girls, let’s get this night started.” Liquorice spun around toward the door.

Neo’s gaze landed on her back. Green eyes widened. She hadn’t realized that Liquorice’s dress was open-back. The contours of her spine and molded shoulders were visible all the way to her waist. But that wasn’t what caught Neo’s eye.

A large mural was tattooed upon Liquorice’s back, reaching from her nape down to her lower back. It appeared like a circular web with an ornate eight-legged spider sitting squarely in the center. Drops of venom trickled from the spider’s fanged chelicerae.

Curiosity overrode Neo’s impulse control. “Where did you get that?”

Liquorice twisted her neck and looked down.

“Oh, this thing? It’s a tribal tattoo. As in, I got it from my tribe when I became an adult.”

“Tribe?”

All six eyes opened on the spider’s forehead.

“You really don’t know anything about spider faunus, do you?”

Neo’s response was a shake of the head. Before Liquorice, she hadn’t even been aware that spider faunus even existed.

“That’s not a surprise. Unlike other faunus, spiders live in tribal communities. We live _far_ outside of the kingdoms, and we are very isolationist. Contact with the outside world is forbidden.”

“If it’s so forbidden, then why are you here?”

“Perhaps I’m a scout for the Spider Empress, clandestinely evaluating how vulnerable your society is to a secret invasion?” Liquorice closed her additional eyes once more. Without them, she had all the appearances of a normal human. Her voice lowered as she continued, “As far as you know, you have passed by dozens, if not hundreds, of spider faunus in the streets. You would never suspect a thing until it’s too late. We don’t advertise our existence, you see.”

A chill ran down Neo’s spine. The thought of a surreptitious species was surreal enough, but now the threat of an undetectable army of spiders walking the streets? Her eyes became white.

Unable to hold it in any longer, Ube burst out laughing. “We don’t advertise, says the girl who wears _eyeliner underneath each of her eyes!”_ She pointed at the highlights on Liquorice’s forehead while hooting with laughter.

Realization dawned on the petite girl.

“Did you just make that all up?” Neo said with an accusatory tone.

Liquorice grinned cheekily. “Not all of it, just everything after I said contact was forbidden. Sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”

She pivoted on her high heels and strolled out the door. Ube slung her purse over her shoulder and fell in step behind.

Reverting her eyes to green, Neo grumbled to herself before following the girls.

* * *

 

The city sights were a dazzling kaleidoscope of bright neon lights and darkened alleys. Car horns, people talking, and feet plodding all mixed together into a dull roar. The constant stream of bodies hustling and bustling down crowded concrete sidewalks formed the lifeblood of the city.

Wherever the trio of femmes went, they attracted stares. More than a few men let known their shallow desires. Liquorice led the pack with a saunter and received the majority of catcalls. According to the jeering voices, her dress would look better on many a floors. Compliments on her long legs and where they joined were as bountiful as the harvest. Ube was awarded with a number of whistling fans herself. Quite a lot of men remarked on her curvy body. Anyone who attempted to praise Neo were awarded only with a turn of the nose and a dismissive wave of her hand.

Liquorice stretched her arms behind her back and said, “I love the attention, but I want to do something.” She turned to Neo. “You know this town, where can a girl find a darkened dance floor and grind against complete strangers?”

Raising an eyebrow at the spider’s licentious behavior, Neo nonetheless brought the pack to _The Cub’s Club._

“Now _this_ is what I’m talking about!” Liquorice’s eyes reflected the neon lights pointing toward the main entrance.

Ube said, “I love the name! It sounds so cute!”

Neo remembered the last time she was here, back when Roman rented members of the club for a string of Dust robberies. She wondered if Junior was still mad at Roman for killing those incompetent cronies.

“Now, where is the VIP entrance?” Liquorice asked.

“It’s up that flight of stairs,” Neo pointed down the alleyway beside the club. A wide staircase led up to the second floor, which was exclusive to only the most prominent patrons. “But I don’t have a VIP pass. Roman was the one who had the pass.” The second floor was an excellent meeting place for criminals wanting to do business.

A peculiar smile slipped over Liquorice’s face. “I don’t need a VIP pass. I just need to grab myself a VIP.”

“How are you planning on grabbing a date?” Neo crossed her arms skeptically. “I don’t want to be standing outside all night.”

The smile only grew wider. “Oh, ye of little faith. Let Liquorice show you how it’s done.”

She walked to the staircase and posted herself at the bottom step. Neo and Ube joined her.

“I’ll snag the first guy that walks around the corner.” The spider boasted.

“Don’t worry, Neo.” Ube said, “Licky has an _irresistible_ charm.”

They could hear the music pounding from inside the club while they waited.

Just as she was becoming impatient, Neo spotted a man approaching the VIP entrance. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties. Judging from his swanky attire and arrogant swagger, he must have been born into riches, possibly old money. Everything about him screamed high octane party-goer with a devil-may-care attitude. This was a man who never worked a day in his life, he didn’t appreciate the value of the money he spent recklessly.

Liquorice dragged her tongue across her lips, a hunger in her eyes. The spider walked forward, swinging her hips with every step. She stopped the man by tapping her finger on his chest. “Hello there,” her voice a low purr.

The man made no attempt to hide where his eyes were roaming about her body. He smirked in such a way that made Neo’s skin crawl. If Liquorice was perturbed by his overt ogling, she didn’t show it. Instead, she circled around behind him, dragging her finger from his chest, over his shoulder, and to his back. The spider glanced down at his buttocks briefly, then completed her circuit and stood in front of him.

“You are a tall, handsome, ginger man who dresses like a movie star,” she said. Liquorice leaned in closer and placed her hands on his chest. “You must be the Donn Rabhartach that I’ve heard so much about.”

Neo blinked in confusion. How had Liquorice learned his name? She had only been in Vale for half a day. Not even Neo knew who this man was. An aside peek discovered that Ube was holding both hands over her mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back laughter.

The man spoke with an Irish accent, “Ah, so you know of me? Who told you about me and what kind of things have you heard, love?”

“I’m not from around here, but I’m visiting my girlfriends who are. Some of them have told me that you’re the best man they’ve ever been with. They say that you can show me all the best places to,” the corners of her lips turned up, “have fun in this town.”

“You must be acquainted with Cobalt and her lovely crew. Yeah, they’ve told you the truth about me.” He sounded very proud.

Neo could recognize what Liquorice was doing. It was a slight-of-tongue trick. By keeping the details vague, Liquorice was letting Donn fill in all the particulars by himself. Stroking his ego made him all the more vulnerable to suggestion.

Donn continued, “Ya caught me at just the right time, love. I’ve been lookin’ for a new squeeze.” He cupped Liquorice’s ass and gave it a firm squeeze. “Come with me, sweet cheeks. My hotel room has the best sight of the city you could ask for.”

A light rumble escaped from her throat. She pressed her body fully against his, never breaking eye contact. Her arms reached up and locked behind his head. “That certainly sounds like fun, but I feel like dancing in a club. Maybe you could give me the VIP treatment?” She hooked one leg around his waist.

“I could get you in the VIP section.” His hand crept beneath the skirt of her dress. “But why waste energy dancing in a club? You’re gonna need it when I make you my—”

All six of Liquorice’s eyes opened. He stopped in mid-syllable as his brain registered the sudden appearance of inhuman eyes.

“The fuck?” he shrieked. “You’re a fucking faunus!”

He grabbed her shoulders and tried to push her away. Liquorice held on tight, a predatory grin slashed across her face.

Neo watched the sudden turn of events with bated breath.

Liquorice seized the back of his head, bared her teeth, and lunged. She pressed her mouth against his and sealed his lips with her own. Then the spider locked both legs behind his torso, pulling him off balance. Donn thrashed around until his back slammed against the alleyway _._ He swung his hand and struck her in the side of the head, but her Aura repelled the blow. Again, he raised his fist. Before he could punch, his whole body ceased moving. His eyes rolled back in his head. Liquorice broke the kiss and arched her spine backwards.

Crimson mist seeped from her lips. It looked like aerosolized blood. Whatever it was, it was forcing itself into his mouth like a living thing. Finally, it disappeared down his throat.

Without warning, Donn took hold of Liquorice’s shoulders and pulled her in for another deep kiss. She reciprocated roughly. Neo could see the shape of their tongues roaming each other’s mouths. They switched positions so that the spider was now pressed against the alleyway wall. Liquorice disengaged her legs and stood shakily on her feet. Without breaking the lip-lock, he grabbed her abundant backside to support her unsteady stance. Her slender fingers raked through his orange hair.

Neo held completely still, eyes white with shock. It wasn’t the sight of them making out that filled her with unease. It was what Liquorice had just done. With a single kiss, she had turned a man who was violently trying to escape into a man who couldn’t keep his lips off her body. That red mist must have been her Semblance.

The implications chilled her blood.

Long ago, Roman Torchwick made a confession to Neo. He had admitted that he didn’t have an unlocked Aura, let alone a Semblance. Neo had asked Roman what kind of Semblance he would like to have. Taking a deep drag of his cigar, Roman had said, “If I could choose a super-power, then I would like the power to control minds. Just imagine that. If I could make people do what I want, then I could have all the power in the world.” Roman chuckled. “Course, I’m not looking to have _all_ the power in the world. Too much responsibility, not my style.”

Neo remembered him tapping the butt of his cigar against a ceramic tray, dispensing a stock of ash. “But if there is someone who could control other people, then they could take anything they wanted. That kind of power does things to people, twists them inside. It’d be impossible to remain sane when everyone you meet could be your plaything. Heck, it doesn’t even need to be a Semblance. Just look at top-tier politician. I’ve been hired to do discreet jobs for more than a few legislators _._ Corruption doesn’t even begin to describe what I’ve seen and heard. There’s just nothing stopping people who control others like puppets.”

If Neo’s suspicions were true, then Liquorice had the power to control minds. _“What is she doing, just being a lackey for hire?!”_ the petite assassin thought.

Ube coughed in her fist. “Uh… Licky? Could we go inside now?”

Six eyes fluttered, in a daze. Liquorice pulled back with apparent reluctance. Donn bit lightly on her lower lip, suckling the studded piercings. Releasing her lip, he lowered his head and grazed his teeth along her exposed collarbone.

Liquorice spoke with a sensuous titter, “Whoops. Guess I got kinda caught up in the moment. Okay, handsome, get your pass ready and let’s head inside through the VIP section.”

Donn stepped back and let Liquorice off the wall. He fished his wallet out of his back pocket. It was a crocodile skin wallet, filled with fat stacks of lien. Liquorice smiled even wider upon laying all of her eyes on the cash. Clearly, she was planning to spend a lot of his money tonight. The mesmerized man took out a plastic pass card. She took his other hand and guided him toward the VIP entrance.

“How did you know his name?” Neo asked.

Liquorice stopped and fixated her with a six-eyed stare. “My six eyes grant me more vision than your two. I can see along a greater scope of the electromagnetic spectrum.” She pointed at her bottom row of eyes, the ones colored green. “These work just like yours, showing me the visible light spectrum.”

Then, she raised her finger to the red pair on top. “These ones allow me to see along the infrared spectrum. I can see heat sources.”

Finally, she indicated at her blue eyes in the middle. “And these baby blues give me sight along the ultraviolet spectrum. I used this pair to see into Donn’s wallet, where I could read his driver’s license. I had to walk behind him because his wallet was in his back pocket.”

For a second, Neo remained silent as she filed away this new information. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Wait! Doesn’t that mean that you can see through—”

“Clothes? Yep, everyone is naked for me.” Liquorice answered with an audacious grin.

Eyes turning pink, Neo instinctively covered her breasts and unmentionables with her hands. Her face burned red hot as though a fire were roasting in her cheeks. No one has seen her naked body before, not a single person.

“Oh, don’t be ashamed,” the spider soothed. “I can see everyone’s nude body, not just yours. It’s not like you’ve got anything to hide, except for that pig-sticker in your right boot.”

Glancing down at her feet, Neo tried to sound calm. “I’m not wearing boots. I have stilettos.”

“Have you already forgotten that I can see through your illusions? I know that you’re still wearing that Victorian outfit underneath your Semblance. You have a stiletto hiding in your stilettos.” Liquorice walked toward the VIP entrance, laughing at her own little joke.

Ube sided up to Neo and said, “Don’t worry about Liquorice. I’ve been around her for a bunch of years now. Nudity doesn’t even phase her. Also, I’m pretty sure she’s a one on the Kinsey scale. Maybe a two on weekends and holidays. Three on pride days. Four if she’s drunk on pride days. And if a pride day lands on the weekend of a holiday and she gets drunk then Liquorice goes up to—”

“Ube?” Neo interrupted. “Has anyone told you to shut up recently?”

Internally, she supposed that it would be silly to try and conceal herself now. It would only be more embarrassing to walk around with her hands over her body. Neo dropped her hands to her sides, straightened her spine, and threw her shoulders back with pride.

While he passed, Donn kept his gaze on the spider. He didn’t even look at Neo or Ube, his attention was devoted to Liquorice alone. Up close, Neo could see that his eyes were glazed over. The expression on his face was completely different than the lustful leer he wore before. Now he was smiling like a love-struck loon. Neo wondered about the extent of his love. Would he kill for her? Would he die for her?

His VIP pass got them through a bouncer guarding the privileged section.

The second floor of _The Cub’s Club_ overlooked the dance floor. As the four entered, the beat dropped with a heavy sounding tone. Towering speakers thumped hard enough to make Neo’s stomach jump. Powerful electronic music lightning-bolted though her ears. Below, she could see uncountable people writhing as if the floor was electrocuting their feet. Bright flashes of dizzying lights illuminated the crowd, capturing their spasmodic dance moves.

It wasn’t to Neo’s tastes. She would rather listen to something slow and smooth, played with violins and a grand piano. A dance should be an intimate affair, just two performers, and the music. Rubbing bodies with complete strangers had no appeal for Neo. The very thought made her skin crawl. How was _this_ supposed to help her unwind? Cinder was going to be in for a surprise when Neo comes back, stressed out even worse than before. Maybe that’ll teach the Queen. Neo enjoyed the idea of proving her wrong. Wipe that smug smile off her face for once.

“Oh yes!” Liquorice clapped her hands above her head. “Just what the doctor ordered!”

“Where’s the booze?” Ube said loudly, although Neo could still barely hear her over the music.

Pointing down a staircase, Neo answered. “The bar is downstairs, toward the back. The owner tends the bar most of the time. He’s a big guy named Hei Xiong, but everyone calls him Junior.”

“Margaritas, here I come!” the purple clad woman declared.

“Dance floor, here _I_ come!” Liquorice began pulling Donn down the stairs.

Neo put her hands on her hips. “Why did you need to use the VIP entrance if you were going downstairs anyways?”

Liquorice stopped and gave Neo a self-satisfied smile, like a cat that had caught a mouse. “Because it’s what I wanted to do.” A wisp of red mist escaped her lips and evaporating instantly upon contact with outside air. “And I _get_ what I _want.”_

Then she disappeared down the flight of steps, passed another bouncer guarding the VIP section, and joined the stormy sea of bodies beneath.

With nothing better to do, Neo followed them. She joined Ube at the bar and sat down on a cushy stool. Ube was talking to Junior, giving him a complex order for a drink. Her order must have been ten or twenty different instructions. Hei Xiong was growing more visibly irritated as she walked him through each step of her order. He shook, stirred, added precise shots of different colored liquid in between shakes and stirs. Finally, the concoction was deposited in a large margarita glass with exactly two cubes of ice and a squirt of vanilla extract.

Ube took a careful sip, like a pretentious wine connoisseur. Then she beamed at Junior and said, “You get a B plus!”

Grumbling under his breath, something about bell curve grades, Junior turned to Neo. For a second, the bearded man stared at her face with a quizzical eyebrow. Then he shook his head and asked for her order. Neo requested a glass of sparkling water. Nothing alcoholic for her.

In the past, Roman had given Neo a piece of advice. “Everyone needs a vice,” he had said while lighting a fat cigar. “But nobody needs two. Pick one poison and swear off everything else. Drugs, booze, sex, and so on. Being addicted to too many things is like tying a rope to each of your limbs. Once those horses take off, you better only be attached to one, otherwise…” He stretched his arms wide apart and made a grotesque squelching noise. “…you’re gonna lose pieces of yourself.”

“I think I’ll stick to ice-cream,” a young Neo grinned. “I’ve seen what happens to drug addicts and alcoholics. I’m even if I was old enough for sex, it still sounds really gross.” She stuck out her tongue in disgust.

“You’re smarter than ninety-nine percent of the people I’ve met. You know how many people have been shot to death ‘cause they were caught with their pants down, hooked on a hooker? More than either of us can count. Never get hooked on something you can only get through other people. People can be horses too.”

_Clink-tinkle-tinkle_

The sound of ice cubes landing inside a glass broke Neo from her reverie. She watched Junior pour sparkle water straight from the bottle, keeping an observant eye for suspicious additions to her drink. Her trust in Junior was just the same as her trust in everyone who wasn’t Roman, rock bottom. A girl could never be too careful. All it would take is a pinch of Rohypnol and Neo would likely wake up behind the dumpsters lacking some valuable internal organs. If she ever woke up at all, that is.

Time slipped away like grains of fine sand through Neo’s fingers. The music, the movement, the madcap confusion contained within _The Cub’s Club_ bled the hours from the clock. Neo simply sat on the stool and nursed her club soda. Liquorice dragged Donn to-and-fro the dance floor and the bar, liquoring up on expensive beverages, all on his tab. She favored the middle of the crowd. Ube spent most of her time giving Junior grief. No two orders were the same. Only one received an “A” grade.

Liquorice threw herself against the bar and said, “Alright! I’m done dancing. Let’s blow this joint.”

Ube shook her head. “Nah, the drinks are too good for that.”

“I said _blow_ this joint, not _blow up_ , dipshit.”

“O-o-o-oh.”

“I’m getting hungry. How about we hit a restaurant next?”

“Yay! I’m practically starving!”

“How about you, Neo?”

Neo simply shrugged. Truth was that she was getting hungry too, but there was no reason to agree with these idiots if they were going to drag her to a restaurant anyways.

Liquorice turned to Donn, “Handsome, pay for our drinks. I’m gonna freshen up in the powder room and then call a limousine.”

Donn never dropped that sickening smitten smile. “O’ course, my mistress. Whatever you say.”

Ube followed Liquorice, leaving Neo alone with Donn. She watched him as he paid for every purchase with a swipe of his credit card. A thought occurred to Neo and she decided to put it to the test.

“Donn,” she called.

He looked at her with a blank expression. The fact that he responded at all was evidence that Donn wasn’t absolutely under Liquorice’s control. He could still act on his own accord. But would he listen?

“What exactly do you love about Liquorice?” Neo asked.

A flicker of confusion passed over Donn’s face. “Why, everything o’ course. She’s just the loveliest gal I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Not anyone can compare t’ my mistress’s beauty.”

Neo continued pushing.

“Don’t you remember how you punched her in the head? You were trying to escape her grasp. Was she still just as lovely back then?”

Donn’s eyebrows furrowed. “I don… I dunno why I hit her. I should apologize wit’ a gift. D’ya think Mistress likes gold jewelry?”

Time to roll out the big guns.

“You are being mind-controlled,” Neo said bluntly. “The love that you feel for Liquorice isn’t real. She put you under her spell when she kissed you. If you run out that door, you might be able to get away. I guarantee that your mind will return to you in time. No Semblance lasts forever.”

His eyes blinked rapidly. Beads of sweat collected on his brow. Uncertainty crept into his voice.

“I… I’m being… mind-controlled?” he stammered. He probed his lips.

 _“Yes._ Get out of here before she comes back. Nothing is stopping you.”

His chest rose and fell. Pain etched grooves into his features. He stole panicked peeks at the exit.

Then,

A tranquil countenance dawned upon his face. “Well, if my mind is truly being controlled by Liquorice, then that’s fine by me. It be hers to control.”

Neo shook her head. _“Weak willed fool. At least now I know it’s possible to resist Liquorice’s control. This could be useful.”_

They didn’t speak a word until Liquorice and Ube came back. No sooner as she took Donn’s arm did he say, “Neo told me about your mind control powers.” Liquorice gave a start. He quickly reassured her that, “You needn’t worry, my mistress, I love you too much t’ ever leave.”

Six eyes narrowed at Neo, who shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “Just testing the extent of your Semblance. It’s important that we get to know each other. At least that’s what Cinder said.” Then she smiled evenly.

“You’re a cheeky little bitch,” said the spider. “But I don’t dislike that.”

There was a fancy limousine parked in front of _The Cub’s Club._ Inside was enough room to sit eight people comfortably. Liquorice and Donn took the middle seats, Ube began rummaging through a mini-fridge, and Neo occupied the furthest corner.

“Where are we going to eat?” Liquorice asked.

“Mm mff murf,” suggested Ube with a mouth full of first-class treats.

Donn said, “The top-rated restaurant in Vale is called _Pegai Cuisine.”_

“Do you need reservations?”

“Normally it requires reservations, but I can get us a table no problem. Anything for my mistress.” Donn gently brushed his hand Liquorice’s cheek.

Neo was dangerously close to losing her appetite.

The limousine started moving, but it the transition was so smooth that she almost didn’t notice. Leaning against the plush upholstery, she stared out the window and watched the cityscape roll by. It was as if the city were on wheels and not the limo.

* * *

 

 _Pegai Cuisine_ was located in the upper-class district of Vale, north of the commercial district, within a mile of the shore.

True to his word, Donn was able to secure the ladies a table. Upon passing through the grand entrance, they were greeted with beautiful classical music. A grand piano played in harmony with a violin and harp, filling the restaurant with a calm, relaxing atmosphere. Far above, a gigantic crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling and bathed the entire interior with soft light. Delicious aromas teased Neo’s senses with promises of a decadent feast.

This sector of the city was home to the rich and powerful. It was almost hilarious how unbefitting the trio of girls were in this place. Everyone in the restaurant were all wearing expensive dresses and tuxedos. Liquorice and Ube’s dresses were better suited for plebeian parties. Only Neo’s cocktail appeared affluent enough to fit in. Not that she integrated any better, with her youth. The clientele ranged from middle-aged citizens to old fogies with gray hair. They were likely extremely successful businesspeople who had taken time out of their busy schedules to enjoy a singular night at a high-class restaurant. And now their night was being thoroughly trashed by the group of low-born commoners that had just barged in without reservations.

Loud laughter erupted from Liquorice and Ube as they told stories to Neo about previous missions. Their hilarity could be heard throughout the entire restaurant. Dirty glares stabbed at them from all directions, but regardless they continued chatting at obnoxiously high volumes. Even the waiters that took their orders were visibly annoyed at their remarkably unladylike behavior.

“And I said, rectum? But I hardly knew ‘em!” Liquorice chortled.

Neo tried to keep her face impassive, but the corners of her mouth twitched.

A waitress approached the table, carrying silver platters with some of the most delicious looking food that Neo’s eyes had feasted upon. Her order was Fois Gras ravioli topped with tomatoes and Santa Barbara spot prawn. Liquorice had requested roasted duck with fermented black beans along with sautéed caramelized onions. A plate with a boiled lobster, red endives, and shaved Parmesan was set before Donn, with vinaigrette on the side. For her order, Ube was served cooked salmon coated in wheat batter mixed with fenugreek leaves, with a side of Brussel sprouts and gouda cheese. A bottle of red wine was uncorked and set on the table.

Bowing at the waist, the waitress pivoted on her heels and left. Immediately, all four tucked into their respective meals with undignified fervor. The clatter of forks and spoons punctured the tranquil mood. Knives scraped stridently against fine porcelain plates. Liquorice made wildly inappropriate sounds of pleasure as she stuffed her cheeks with hunks of duck meat. The moment that Neo bit into a ravioli, her mouth was flooded with hearty Italian sausage with alfredo sauce. She couldn’t help but join Liquorice’s moaning. Donn picked up a small hammer and brought it down upon the boiled lobster, shattering its crimson shell. Bits of broken armor flew into the air. He pried out a piece of crustacean meat and presented it to his date, who was only too happy to have a taste. Crystalline glasses _clinked_ noisily as everyone poured themselves generous amounts of wine, with the exception of Neo, who only drank mineral water.

The other customers scowled in disgust at the indecorous antics. This didn’t bother Neo. On the contrary, their repulsion only added to the flavor. It was a perverse sort of pleasure, saturated with vindictive spite. These pompous aristocrats feasted upon delectable meals every day of their lives. To them, such luxuries were the norm. They believed themselves to be superior; because they’ve never had to sit on corner streets begging for money; because they’ve never had to sleep in a filthy alleyway in the dead of winter; because they’ve never been a six-year old orphan girl scrounging through dumpsters just to find something to eat.

Let these self-important rich bastards hate her. It didn’t matter. Their loathing could never possibly match the pitch-black odium she reserved for them. Every dirty look she received only made her smile wider.

And so she continued devouring her meal like a lunatic, intentionally making too much noise, leaning back in her chair, splattering viscous pasta sauce on the velvet tablecloth. She grabbed one of the lobster claws and brutally dismembered it. The cracking sound pleased her ears. Her teeth sank into the pink meat as if she were a madwoman possessed.

Despite previous grousing, Neo found herself having fun reveling in the debauchery. Perhaps this night wasn’t a complete waste of time. Of course, she would deny it in a court of law.

Neo realized that something was missing. There was a strange lack of ear-piercing giggles. She turned her head to look at Ube. To her surprise, the portly woman was not joining in the wanton destruction of table manners. In fact, it appeared as though she had hardly even touched her dish.

Ube speared a piece of her salmon with a fork and held it to eye level. After carefully inspecting the fish, she frowned.

“Hey Ube, what’s the matter?” Liquorice asked. “Is the salmon not up to your standards?”

Harrumphing, Ube declared loud enough to be heard, “I find it hard to believe that a top-rate restaurant would serve a dish this substandard!” She held the fork up for all to see. “You’d think that this was a mom and pop shop, for the quality of food that they cook here! Shameful!”

Liquorice said, “Why don’t you tell us what’s wrong with the food? Give us your critique. And use big words too, that’s always fun.”

“Well, for starters, this salmon has hardly any flavor. It was clearly cured at high-temperatures, which is an awful way to cure meat. Fish should be cured at low-temperatures. Smoking the salmon would have sealed the outer layer and locked the flavor inside.” Ube’s words began to pick up speed. “Secondly, this batter is far too crisp and the texture is rough on my tongue. The idiot of a chef fried this used distilled water, when in fact, the batter should have been fried with beer! Alcohol’s chemical makeup allows it to volatize faster than water, which would have granted the batter a light and fluffy texture, as well as preventing it from sticking to the pan.”

It was as though Ube had transformed into a completely different person. Gone was the dimwitted giggling girl. In her place was a fluent and fastidious food aficionada.

“Worst of all is how unevenly cooked this salmon is.” She took a knife and opened the fish with a butterfly cut. She prodded the inside with her knife while speaking, “You can see that the inner meat is a dull pink color while it _should_ be bright coral. The inside is undercooked while the outside is overcooked. Absolutely reprehensible! A proper chef would have cooked the salmon with the _sousvide_ method by sealing the fish in an airtight pouch and submerging it in a water bath at very precisely controlled temperatures. Food enclosed in a vacuum is always cooked evenly, with both the inside and outside equally tender.”

“Furthermore,” Ube tapped her finger on her lips, “there is something missing from the body of this dish. If I were to make this, I would have implanted a roe of _faux caviar_ in the stomach. Just a hidden -surprise to make the entire dish taste better.”

Neo couldn’t even keep up with the fast-speaking gourmand. The tornado of convoluted words whirled inside her head, making her dizzy.

“Stop!” She pointed her flat palm at Ube. Then she turned to Liquorice and asked, “I was under the impression that Ube is an idiot, where’s this coming from?”

The spider answered with a smirk, “That’s what you get for judging a book by its cover.”

“I didn’t judge a book by its cover. I judged a book by its first eight chapters. Nothing prepared me for chapter nine!”

“Yeah, well, Ube’s not an idiot.” Liquorice said, “She’s an idiot savant. Her specialty is chemistry.”

Ube mused aloud, “Using sodium alginate and calcium chloride, I could form tiny tea-flavored spheres wrapped in a gelatinous membrane. Something with a light flavor to balance with the salmon’s sea smell. Perhaps Darjeeling, or maybe Sencha? I should experiment with this idea.”

“When it comes to chemistry, Ube is a savant. When it comes to everything else…”

“Hey, Neo!” Ube gushed excitedly while reaching in her purse. “I found a rock that was itty-bitty and pretty and it reminded me of you! Look at it!” She produced a petite pebble with faded pink paint. “Isn’t it just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“…you get the idiot part.” Liquorice deadpanned.

Looking between her teammates, Neo spoke slowly, “I see…”

Liquorice’s voice fell to a stage whisper, “It’s not just your usual chemistry either. Ube is a prodigy _alchemist_ , which means she knows how to combine chemistry and Dust manipulation. Every explosive she carries is one that she’s made by herself. She mixes different kinds of Dust into her bombs for cool side-effects. Have you ever seen a bomb that detonates with ice instead of fire? Or one that forms a black hole that sucks up everything around? That’s the kind of shit that Ube can do because she’s such a genius at alchemy.”

Said wunderkind blushed happily.

“The best part is that all this chemistry knowledge makes Ube into a grandmaster chef. She makes the best tasting food you’ll ever eat. She calls it molecular… uh… molecular something…” Liquorice groped the air for a word outside her grasp.

“Molecular gastronomy.” Ube provided. “It’s the study of food that seeks to research the physical and chemical transformations of ingredients that occur in cooking.”

“Right, that mouthful. Anyways, Ube isn’t just an annoying moron. She’s an annoying moron that can blow shit sky high then cook an orgasm on a plate. The food in this restaurant hardly even compares.”

Neo glanced at her remaining ravioli. How much better could it taste?

 _“Hardly_ compares?” Ube scoffed. “My cuisine puts this entire restaurant to shame! In fact, I’ve cooked better meals while in juvie! I give _Pegai Cuisine_ an F minus, a failing grade!”

She stuck her hand inside her purse, then slipped the purse beneath the table, out of sight. A second passed, and Neo heard the sound of three heavy objects hitting the floor. _Clunk, clunk, clunk._

Liquorice immediately leaped to her feet. “Well! That’s our cue to get out of here as fast as possible!” Donn stood up as well.

Neo’s brow furrowed. “Wait, Donn hasn’t paid yet. Are we really dine and dashing?”

“More like dine and blasting.”

One dawning realization later and Neo was practically running for the door, legs pumping beneath her cocktail skirt. A surge of adrenaline carried her like the wind. Liquorice was dragging Donn by the elbow as they bolted for the exit. Their waitress shouted after them about calling the police. Ube hollered back about leaving a generous tip beneath the table.

Just before escaping the restaurant, Neo stole a glance behind her at all of the wealthy geezers- still inside, dining on their expensive meals. All of the elitist fossils had looked down on her. All of the arrogant assholes who deserved everything that was about to happen.

Neo grinned from ear-to-ear and left them to their fates.

Outside, rows of limousines lined up along _Pegai Cuisine’s_ grand avenue. Beyond that were city streets packed with ambling pedestrians. The foursome continued running and crossed the busy road without slowing. Cars brakes screeched and horns blared. Neo heard a clever combination of swears. Finally, they stopped on the far sidewalk.

Ube hurriedly fished her scroll out of her purse and pointed its camera at herself, with _Pegai Cuisine_ in the background.

“Selfie!” the plump woman squealed. She formed the peace sign with her fingers and snapped the picture.

 _Pegai Cuisine_ blew apart with a blinding flash of light. Screams of terror were lost in the deafening boom. An earthquake shook the ground beneath everyone’s feet, throwing whole masses of people to the concrete sidewalks. Street lamps toppled like trees, falling upon the road. Every vehicle on the street veered out of lane and smashed into another. Several cars drove into the crowded sidewalk.

The overpressure wave upended every limousine, several of them bursting into flames. Their mangled chassis hurtled into the air. Burning chunks of debris dropped like mortar strikes, crushing automobiles and humans alike. One particularly large fireball landed on top of a city bus. Acrid smoke spread out from the inferno, enveloping the street in a suffocating miasma. Sounds of coughing and choking joined the chorus of shrieks and laments. The roar of the inferno rose above the mayhem.

Plumes of fire erupted from _Pegai Cuisine’s_ gutted interior. Neo gasped in amazement upon seeing that the flames were a deep violet hue.

Ube explained, “I used potassium sulfate and potassium nitrate to make fire of that color.”

“That was incredible,” Neo spoke in an awed tone of voice as she watched a constellation of purple embers race toward the sky.

“Hell yeah, that was incredible!” Liquorice clapped her hands and shouted as loud as she could to be heard over the pandemonium. “Well, I’d say that marks the perfect ending to our girls’ night out! Why don’t we head back to base and—oh wait hold up. I forgot about Donn. Where is that guy?”

“There he is!” Neo pointed her finger at a body on the ground.

In the chaos, Donn had been knocked off his feet. He didn’t appear to be injured, but his face was contorted with agony.

“Uh-oh,” Ube said. “Looks like the shock was too much for your date, Licky. He’s gonna pop.”

As soon as the words were spoken, Donn opened his mouth wide and vomited out a cloud of crimson mist.

“A-a-a-and there he blows.”

The glaze faded from his eyes. He struggled to his feet, avoiding the stampede of frightened people that threatened to trample him underfoot. His head turned to the burning ruins, his mouth wide open. An expression of sheer horror plastered upon his face. Donn looked at the women he had brought to the devastated restaurant.

He took off running in the opposite direction.

“A-a-a-and there he goes.” Ube put her hands on her hips. “Looks like we’ve got a runner!”

“What a shame,” Liquorice pouted. “He was such a good kisser too. Guess someone’s gonna have to catch him.”

Neo was already way ahead of her. She had leaped in the chase from the moment that Donn had bolted. Her small frame threaded like a needle through tiny gaps in the panicked throngs. The thrill of the hunt coursed through her veins. In no time at all, the petite assassin has caught up to her target. Donn screamed repeatedly, “Help me! They’re gonna kill me! Someone, please help me!” But his cries were lost in the symphony of screams.

With a sharp kick to the back of his leg, Neo brought Donn to his knees in the middle of the street. She dispelled her illusion, revealing her true colors. She reached down and unsheathed Miss Deed from her right boot. Gripping the nine-inch knife in her hand, Neo slit the man’s throat in one smooth stroke, silencing his shrieks. Blood bubbled from the thin slit, pouring down his neck like a waterfall. Donn grabbed his throat. Red ran over his fingers.

She leaned in close so that she could listen to his tortured gurgles while Miss Deed went to work. Again and again, the Damascus steel blade plunged into his chest. Every strike slid through his ribcage with practiced precision. Five stabs, ten stabs, fifteen, twenty. Neo built a rhythm as she picked up speed. Her arm pistoned like a jackhammer.

Hordes of wild-eyed sheep ran past without even looking at what was happening. Neo was murdering a man in the center of the road, but not a single person tried to stop her.

Blood gushed from Donn’s mouth, painting her entire front a vivid scarlet. Finally, he toppled over and laid on his side. The fires that burned around reflected in wide, empty eyes. His blood ran down the street and trickled into the gutters. Neo wiped Miss Deed on his shoulder and returned the blade to her boot.

“Oh goodie!” Ube chirped from behind Neo. “I was afraid that you were gonna lick the blood off your knife.” She stuck her tongue out and made a disgusted face. “Blah!”

“That’s a surefire way to catch a disease,” Neo said. “Only _retarded psychopaths_ clean their weapons with their tongue.”

Liquorice whistled, “Hot damn, that looked cathartic! Been pent up much?” She snapped her fingers and pointed her thumb toward downtown. “Anyways, now that _that’s_ taken care of, we should head back to base. This place is so chaotic we don’t need to cover our tracks. Nobody’s gonna find anything that connects this to us, not if we hurry our collective asses.” She gestured to Neo’s blood-drenched clothes. “Although, it would help if you cleaned yourself up a bit.”

Waving her hand above her crown, Neo replaced her previous illusion over her body. Green eyes stared up at the spider.

“Not quite as impressive the second time you see it, but it does the job. Pack it up girls, we’re leaving.” Liquorice started power walking toward their destination, her teammates followed behind.

Ube piped up with a cheerful voice, “Don’t worry about bloodstains. I’ve got a chemical concoction that gets blood out of _everything!_ It’s the ultimate cleaning solution for killers like us!”

Nodding her head, Neo finally admitted aloud, “I’ve had fun tonight. We should do this again sometime.”

The three women wore an identical smile as they put the hellish landscape behind them.


	31. Rosetta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cinder is up to something.

Yang cried out in indescribable agony. The broken Huntress couldn’t take any more of this unimaginable torture. Every fiber of her being wept for the sweet relief of death. Amethyst eyes snapped wide, then fluttered close. She released a tremendous sigh as if her very soul were escaping from her lips and into the great beyond. Yang’s lifeless body slumped forward. Her golden crown struck the surface of the heavy mahogany desk with an echoing _thud_. In the distance, the sound of bells could be heard.

The blonde beauty breathed no more.

“Would you please lower the volume of your death rattle,” Weiss said with a pitiless tone of voice. “You’re in a library.”

Blake shook her head at her partner’s theatrical antics. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Anyone wanna cookie?” enquired Ruby. She shook a bag of chocolate chip cookies over her sister’s decomposing corpse. The contents rustled invitingly.

Fast as a cobra’s strike, Yang’s hand lashed out and snared the bag. She shoveled the stolen treats in her mouth like a wild animal.

Weiss said, “That’s a good idea, Yang. The extra glucose intake should help your brain focus on studying longer.”

Wiping her hand across her mouth, Yang complained, “I can’t believe that I’m wasting a _beautiful_ Sunday morning in the library!” She gestured toward a tall window, through which a vibrant blue sky and brilliant yellow sun could be seen. Birds sang cheerfully as they celebrated their freedom, maliciously taunting Yang with their powers of flight.

An excruciating groan tore out of the bruiser. “I’d rather go another twelve rounds with Raven than read one more chapter. It’s like sucking water from a cactus!”

“This is what you get for missing classes. Now you need to make up for lost time.” Weiss didn’t even spare Yang a glance.

Yang buried her face in her hands and sobbed. “ _Weiss_ -o mean to me?”

The ends of Weiss’ lips turned down as much as Yang’s turned up.

Blake said, “You just answered your question, with your question.”

Ruby took the opportunity to steal her cookies back. “You missed out on a really cool history class.”

Lifting her golden crown, Yang fixed a skeptical stare upon her sister. “Did I just hear you say the words ‘cool’ and ‘history class’ in the same sentence? Who are you and what have you done with Ruby?”

“Don’t pester your sister for enjoying an intellectual lecture,” said Weiss. “She should be applauded for paying attention in class.”

Rolling her amethyst eyes, Yang asked, “So, what happened in history that made it so cool?”

Silver eyes sparkled as Ruby gushed, “We got to watch a movie on an old-tech TV where this guy named Merlin blew up a whole army with a gigantic magic spell! It was like,” she reproduced the sounds of an army on the march, “and then Merlin showed up and hit the ground with his cane and everything went,” her hands shot toward the ceiling and she imitated an explosion, “and when all the light was gone everyone was dead but him! Merlin was so cool! I bet Merlin was even more powerful than Ozpin!”

“That _does_ sound cool,” Yang said while firing a smug little smirk at the platinum haired Huntress.

Weiss shook her snow-white head and heaved a deep sigh. “I give up on you two.”

Laughing lightly at her team’s antics, Blake said, “It was a very interesting lesson. We learned a lot about the Great War and the events leading up to it. Halfway through, a foreign student interrupted Dr. Oobleck and hijacked the seminar.”

Yang’s jaw dropped open. “Are you kidding me? Oobleck got upstaged in his own class? Who managed to pull that off?”

“Her name was Sulphur Eris,” Weiss said. “Judging from her uniform, I believe she hails from Haven Academy. It’s amazing how well-informed she was about the Great War. There were things that even I had no knowledge of.”

The faunus flipped a page of her schoolbook. “She told a different side of the story, one that isn’t in these books. As it turns out, there was a lot more than just a king losing his mind and going power mad. There were legitimate reasons on both sides of the conflict. Even Oobleck learned some new things.”

“Oh my god,” Yang breathed. “There’s someone out there that’s an even bigger history nerd than _Oobleck?!”_

Ruby crossed her arms and frowned. “Sulphur may be smarter than Dr. Oobleck, but I still like him a lot more. She made Oobleck look bad in front of the entire class. Sulphur is just a bully that likes talking down at people.” She slammed her fist into her palm, “I swear if I see her again I’ll—”

Blake pointed over Ruby’s shoulder and said, “Oh look, there’s Sulphur now.”

The petite girl made a high-pitched sound like a mouse and nearly fell out of her chair. Yang followed Blake’s finger until she laid eyes on a black-haired woman wearing Haven Academy’s school uniform.

Just the same as before, Sulphur’s very presence commanded all the energy in the room. Silence settled in the chamber. Everywhere she went, heads turned as if captured in her gravitational field. Yang couldn’t look away. Sulphur’s Aura felt unnervingly similar to Raven’s Aura. Yet, it was the polar opposite as well. Whereas the Grimm Reaper had bordered on ice-cold dread, Sulphur was more comparable to an inviting fire. Charisma bled from her with no conscious effort, gently drawing people closer like moths to a flame.

Team RWBY watched as Sulphur paced through the aisles. Golden eyes scythed over the covers and titles of books on the shelf. She reached up with slender fingers, removed a book, and broke it open in her hand. After staring at the contents for a few seconds, the woman returned the book to the shelf and moved on. The moment she was out of sight, the room slowly returned to its previous state. Students started talking again, but in softer tones than before.

“Hot _dayum_ ,” Yang said. “She sure didn’t look like a history nerd. I wonder what she’s doing?”

Weiss snapped, “Maybe she’s studying, like what _you’re_ supposed to be doing?”

* * *

Yang and Weiss started bickering. Ruby shrank in her seat, apparently trying not to be seen.

Blake closed her eyes and tuned out the sounds of her teammates. It was a talent that she had become exceedingly proficient at. The world fell away as Blake meditated in her seat. All of her senses dulled, except for her sense of hearing, which became hypersensitive. Adam had taught Blake how to achieve this altered state of consciousness. He referred to it as ‘seeing the world through the eye of an alpha predator’. In this state of mind, Blake could follow a sparrow’s wingbeat in a rainstorm.

The feline faunus focused her heightened hearing until she could make out every sound in the entire library. The rustle of pages. The _thud_ of heavy books closing. The tapping of a computer keyboard. The light snores coming from Nora Valkyrie, a few tables over.

None of them were what she was listening for, so Blake sharpened her hearing even further.

A world’s wealth of noises became available to her. Writing utensils scratching on paper. Someone yawning. A fly buzzing in the air near the ceiling.

A light _clink_. Glass stilettos on hardwood floor. There she was.

Blake tracked Sulphur’s location through a mental map of the library. The section that she had just left had been about pre-war cultures. Now the Mistralian was making her way to the information desk.

When Sulphur spoke, her voice sounded sweet like honey, “Excuse me, Professor Goodwitch? Could I please ask you to answer a couple of questions that I have?” She was behaving far more graciously than she had back in Oobleck’s class. Almost like she was a completely different person.

“Certainly.” Glynda’s voice was outwardly polite but colored with a touch of weariness. Clearly, keeping up with all the foreign students was taking its toll on the poor professor.

“Thank you, I will keep this brief. I have heard rumors that Beacon Academy is in possession of a Rosetta, the only functional one remaining in the world. Is it true?”

“Hmm… let me think for a moment. Ah yes. I do believe that Headmaster Ozpin owns such a device in his collection. However, it isn’t available for public use. It’s a _very_ old piece of technology, extremely fragile. The only reason it still functions is because the Headmaster has preserved it so carefully.”

“I see. So, it _is_ still in this school?”

“Ozpin’s collection is on school grounds, yes. You could ask him for permission to see his collection, but it’s entirely up to him.” A hint of curiosity made its way in Glynda’s tone. “Might I pose a question of my own? What is your interest in the Rosetta?”

“Purely academic. I have a passion for pre-War history. It’s a relief to know that someone is preserving the surviving pieces of history that we have left. Thank you for your time.”

Blake listened to the _clinking_ of Sulphur’s glass heels until she exited the library. Her brow gathered into a tight knot. There was something about Sulphur that put her on edge. Something about that woman caused Blake’s shoulders to hunch up high without conscious effort. There was a warning in the air, like every fiber of her being was telling her that danger was nearby. She couldn’t figure out the reason, but the hairs on Blake’s neck stood at attention around Sulphur Eris.

She rose from her seat, pushing the chair back.

Yang took notice. “Where’re you going, Blakey?”

“I’m going to sate my curiosity about something.”

A smirk adorned her partner’s face. “Be careful, you know what they say about cats and curiosity.”

Amber eyes locked onto the dragoness. “No, I don’t know what they say about cats and curiosity. Care to explain it to me?”

Realization dawned on Yang. She quickly tried to backpedal out of the racially insensitive quagmire she had precariously thrown herself into.

“Uh… they say that…” Her hands groped the air for an invisible solution. “Curiosity is _normal_ for kids our age and that safe experimentation is a _healthy_ way to mature into well-adjusted adults.”

This time, it was Blake’s turn to smirk. “Nice save, although you forgot to include cats.”

She turned away from the table and started walking. Long legs carried her through the library until she caught sight of Glynda Goodwitch. The scholarly professor appeared well at home, sitting on an armchair with a heavy book in her lap, surrounded on all sides by towering shelves teeming with tomes.

Blake approached Glynda and stopped in front of her. The older woman looked up from her book.

“Can I help you?” asked Professor Goodwitch.

“Yes,” Blake bowed her head respectfully, “I was wondering what exactly a Rosetta is.”

Peridot eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s a popular subject today. Did you read about it somewhere?” Glynda’s stare climbed to the black bow on top of Blake’s crown. “Or you might have been eavesdropping?”

The pair of cat ears beneath the bow twitched. A guilty grimace stole across Blake’s expression.

“Ah well, it wasn’t a private conversation anyways. Just remember to be more courteous in the future.”

“I’m sorry, and yes I will.”

“Now, onto your question. A Rosetta is a very old piece of technology from the pre-War era. Back in those days, the whole world was populated by a vast amount of cultures and nations. Each had their own languages and dialects, which made communication incredibly difficult. When King Arthur waged the First Crusade, he brought all of Remnant beneath his banner. While this unity was excellent for creating a powerful kingdom, the language barrier still separated the many different cultures. That’s when the Rosetta was invented.”

Slender fingers adjusted almond-shaped glasses.

“The Rosetta is a universal translation device, capable of interpreting and deciphering all of the languages and dialects ever recorded. All of Camelot’s greatest translators came together and combined their knowledge to create it. Rosettas were mass produced and distributed to the people for public use. Rosettas were meant to dissolve the language barrier and bring all of the people together into one great big multicultural melting pot. And for a while, they worked.”

“What changed?” inquired Blake.

“King Arthur changed,” said Glynda. “During the Second Crusade, Arthur decided that having many different languages was inefficient and abolished every language except for the standard _lingua franca_ we have today. Thus the Rosettas were made obsolete, and many of them destroyed. As of today, there is only one left that still functions.”

“It’s in Ozpin’s possession, right? Why does Ozpin have it?” The faunus quickly added, “Again, sorry for listening in.”

A wry smile tugged at Glynda’s lips. “Well, our esteemed Headmaster is somewhat eccentric. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Memories of being catapulted off a cliff and into a sea of emerald green trees flitted through Blake’s mind. “I see…” she said slowly.

“Headmaster Ozpin likes to keep a collection of pre-War and even older artifacts. There are stone sculptures, historic paintings, and antique Ming vases dating further back to before we even have records. He has archived hundreds of ancient books, many of which are in dead languages.”

“So, Ozpin is an ancient history enthusiast?” Blake said.

The blonde professor murmured thoughtfully, “Or perhaps they’re all just keepsakes to keep him grounded in the present.”

Catlike eyes blinked in confusion. “I’m sorry, what did you mean by that?”

“It’s nothing, just the musings of a tired old woman.” Glynda leaned back in her chair.

Blake sounded skeptical. “You don’t look like an old woman.”

“I _feel_ like one.”

“Well, thank you for teaching me about Rosettas. I’ll leave you to your book.”

Bowing at the waist, Blake pivoted toward her teammates’ table. Just before leaving, she twisted her neck and looked back at the book Glynda had returned to reading. The cover was almost completely black, except for a crimson slash and a pair of glaring eyes. She immediately recognized the three-word title. It was in First Edition too!

Glynda looked up.

Peridot met amber.

They traded a look of mutual understanding.

Both nodded, having recognized the bond they shared.

The sisterhood of guilty pleasures.

Blake hurried back to her team.


	32. Full Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team LUNA heads out on their mission.

Neo tilted the bottle of weapon oil and let the smooth liquid soak into the rag in her hand. Once the cloth was properly saturated, she set the bottle aside and gripped Miss Behave’s handle. With delicate strokes, Neo wiped the oiled rag up and down the cold length of her blade. Soon, the steel surface glimmered with the colors of the rainbow. She slid Miss Behave into its sheath. Then, in one sharp movement, she ripped the sword out of its scabbard. The well-lubricated edge made not a single sound.

Smirking in satisfaction, Neo returned Miss Behave to Miss Fortune and twirled the paired weapons between her fingers. She kicked her right foot as hard as she could. Miss Deed remained firm in her sheath. It wouldn’t be good for the dagger hidden in her boot to come loose while she was running or fighting. Only one thing remained. She picked up Roman’s signature bowler cap and lifted it up high. She released the hat and let it tumble down her arm. It landed on top of her head, a snug fit. With pre-mission preparations complete, all that was left to do was waiting for the rest of her teammates to finish their arrangements.

The parasol fluttered lightly above her multicolored crown as she watched Ube and Liquorice perform self-checks on their weapons. Liquorice practiced folding and unfolding her _katar_ daggers repeatedly. _Ch-ch-ch-chink._ Her six eyes stared at her weapons with laser-like focus as she inserted a thin screwdriver into the workings of her bracers. After rotating the tool a few degrees clockwise, the spider-faunus flicked her wrist again. _Ch-ch-ch-chink._

Neo’s attention turned to her other teammate. The day that Ube arrived, Neo had spied a wooden object in her possession and surmised it to be Ube’s weapon. Now that weapon was laying in the open and Neo could see its shape clearly.

It was a giant spoon painted in pink and purple, with Ube’s personal symbol displayed prominently.

Heterochromatic eyes blinked. She rose to her feet and approached the oversized tableware. Ube was kneeling in front of her weapon and striking it with a hammer.

“What is that thing?” Neo said bluntly.

Ube looked up and grinned. “This is my weapon! Cool, right?”

“It’s just a spoon.”

Loud laughter exploded from the portly mercenary. “No, silly goose, she isn’t _just_ a spoon! Just like a lot of weapons, she transforms!”

Inspecting closely, Neo could see two hinges on the bottom of the spoon. This revelation did nothing to shed light on the spoon’s secondary function.

“What exactly does this _thing_ transform into?” Neo crossed her arms.

“Well, stand back and prepare to be amazed!” Ube leaped to her feet.

The skeptical assassin didn’t budge from her spot.

Ube stomped on a pedal underneath the spoon.

_BOING!_

Two timber planks slapped down, accompanied by the sound of a spring coil. The planks acted as legs, propping the main body of the spoon up. Nothing else happened.

Neo stared at the spoon’s newly revealed form. The haze of confusion lifted from her mind and was immediately replaced by growing dismay as she recognized what Ube’s weapon had transformed into.

“It’s a catapult,” she deadpanned.

“Yep!” Ube beamed with pride. “Her name is Spoonapult 9000! Isn’t she a beauty?”

‘Beauty’ wasn’t quite the word that Neo would have chosen. Alas, a word that wholly encapsulated the various adjectives that Neo could use to illustrate that _thing_ was eluding her, so she merely said, “I honestly don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay.” Ube patted Neo on the back, nearly knocking her to the ground. “I was speechless when I finished making her the first time too. Such works of art can’t even be described with words.”

The _first_ time? Did that mean that Ube made this thing more than once? Were there previous iterations? Wait, its name was Spoonapult 9000? _Was this the most highly upgraded model?_

Dumbfounded, Neo didn’t even hear Liquorice as she approached from behind.

“So, it’s Piece-o-crap 9000, now? The last one was Piece-o-crap 6000, right? What happened to that?” She spoke in a caustic tone.

Ube puffed up her cheeks in outrage. “Don’t call her a piece of crap, she’s my baby! And the last one caught fire, remember?”

“Your baby is a flammable piece of crap. I’ve seen better weapons in a middle school woodshop.”

Neo’s eyebrow crooked. “What were you doing in a middle school workshop?”

“My mark was the teacher.” She threw her head back and laughed. “Those kids ain’t gonna forget _that_ day of school.”

_Clink._

Every spine snapped rigid.

“Is everyone is finished with their preparations?”

Cinder’s voice held no malice, but the air shifted dangerously as soon as she made her presence known.

Rather than her signature crimson dress, Cinder sported a pitch black suit that clung to her body like a second skin. Upon her face was a domino mask. Vials containing various elements of Dust were strapped to her thighs. Neo recognized the outfit as the same one Cinder previously wore during the CCT infiltration mission.

“Yes,” Liquorice said. Ube and Neo nodded vigorously.

“Then let’s head to the hangar, shall we?” Cinder sharply pivoted on her glass heels and marched away. There was none of her usual swagger in her gait.

Exhaling a held breath, Ube said in a hushed tone, “Cinder seems like she’s in a bad mood. Do you think it’s ‘cause Akayami is a no-call, no-show?”

“I’d be pissed too if a mercenary that I’d hired had gone AWOL before the first mission. Cinder probably isn’t used to people holding her up. Now she’s gotta go on a mission that’s going to take her out of the kingdom? The boss lady definitely didn’t plan for this.”

Liquorice led the way toward the hangar bay alongside Ube. Neo trailed behind, remaining silent as she thought back.

The mission briefing had taken place a mere hour ago, at 0100 hours. Cinder laid out the mission parameters. Team LUNA was going to assault a research and development complex located in Atlas, with the purpose of stealing a superweapon known as Project N.V. Every detail was there, the blueprints of the complex, the number of guards, the appearance of the package, where it was stored, the Evac route, and more.

According to White Fang intelligence, much of the guard was being transferred to reinforce General Ironwood’s forces for the Vytal Festival. By the time the mission began, there would be only a forty-three soldiers onsite, along with a small number of Atlesian Paladins and Dragonflies. While these security measures alone would provide a fair enough challenge, they were mere small fry compared to the _real_ threats.

Reportedly, two Atlesian Specialists were currently posted in the complex. Sergeant Jack Spriggins and Lieutenant Hans Nachtkrapp. Being graduates from Atlas Academy, they were both bound to be powerful warriors.

Cinder stressed that fighting the Specialists was _not_ the goal of the mission. All they needed to do was procure Project N.V. and escape. If an engagement became unavoidable, then two members of LUNA would fight while the other two would escort the payload to the extraction point. Worst case scenario, two of them would be killed or captured. It was the risk that everyone had signed up for.

Pushing through a set of double doors, Team LUN entered the hangar. Built to accommodate luxury cruise ships, it was expansive enough to hold a small fleet of aircraft. White Fang grunts toiled tirelessly, unloading boxes and crates from a Bullhead.

Cinder stood beside an unfamiliar airship. The entire craft was painted in black, from its nose cone to its tilted jet turbines. Despite the bright florescent bulbs above, Neo couldn’t see any reflection on the surface of the craft. The blackness was deep enough to leech all of the light that came in contact. The cockpit of the ship had a pair of tinted circular windows. They appeared like the watchful eyes of an owl. Its sleek design and streamlined contours gave the impression that it was moving fast, even while motionless.

“That’s a stealth ship,” she said.

Golden eyes regarded her. “You’re correct. To be exact, it’s an HSST-44, better known as the Strigiformes. This is the fastest, stealthiest ship that money can buy.”

Whistling, Liquorice approached the expensive craft. “I was wondering how we were going to enter Atlesian airspace undetected. Never thought I’d be able to ride in a ship _this sexy!_ How fast does she go?”

“In excess of Mach-3,” Cinder answered.

“Whoa, baby! Can I call shotgun with the pilot? I wanna ride with him.”

If Cinder caught the innuendo, then she chose not to react to it.

“The Strigiformes has no pilot, it flies purely by autopilot.”

“Ah damn.”

Ube chirped, “Do we get in-flight movies?”

“No.”

“Aww. This is gonna be a _long_ ride.”

“Well, I hope you brought a book because it’s going to be a three-hour flight.”

Liquorice reached into a pouch hanging from her hip and pulled out a small box. “I’m bringing a deck of cards if anyone wants to play some Mistrali Slapjack.”

“No way, Licky! You always slap too hard!”

“At least I don’t turn my rings down, like Kelly.”

“Oh jeez, don’t remind me. Kelly played for _blood!”_

“Neo, do you know the rules?”

“Is hand hovering allowed?”

Cinder cut into their conversation. “At this very moment, there is a thick blanket of fog over the harbor, which will conceal our exodus from Vale. Therefore, it would be prudent to continue this _riveting_ discussion about card games on the ship.”

“Yes, my Queen,” said Team LUN simultaneously.

The four villainesses watched as the landing ramp lowered down. It met the floor with a _clang._ Cinder took the lead and placed one boot on the ramp.

She froze in place. She twisted her head to the side. At the same time, Liquorice also threw her gaze in the same direction. Confused, Neo followed their lines of sight. Both women were staring at the bay doors. The intensity in their eyes sent an icy shiver down her spine.

“Open the bay doors!” Cinder called out.

A White Fang member had been standing by, waiting for that order. He quickly threw a switch.

Rumbling filled the air as heavy machinery came to life. One of the tremendous gates folded on rusted hinges as it rose to the ceiling. Saltwater gushed out of pipes and filled a landing bay. At the same time, thick tendrils of fog poured in from the sea.

A peculiar sound wafted in Neo’s ears, like the tinkling of bells.

_Ring-a-ling._

“Look, I see something!” Ube pointed to the sea.

There, out in the distance, a dark silhouette emerged from the haze. Wreathed in mist, it was impossible to see clearly. Neo could only tell that it was vaguely humanlike. That it was standing on the water. That it was coming closer.

_Ring-a-ling._

Leather gloves creaked as Neo gripped Miss Behave’s hilt. Her eyes had turned white as the fog around her.

As it approached, more details came into view. It took the appearance of a woman. She stood ramrod straight upon a raft that was no larger than a wooden pallet. Neo was amazed that she was able to stay balanced on the shifting waters.

“Well, well, well,” Cinder murmured. “She’s finally decided to arrive.”

The raft slowly drifted through the open entryway. A blanket of fog rolled alongside at the same pace. The temperature in the hangar plummeted. Neo could see her breath. This was not a natural chill.

It tasted like dread.

The woman vanished. Neo didn’t even see her jump. Bells chimed as the unnamed woman appeared directly in front of Cinder Fall.

_Ring-a-ling._

Cinder placed a hand on her hip. “You’re late, Akayami.”

The fourth member of LUNA was a tall woman, even taller than the Queen. She wore scarlet _furisode_ robes with pleated black _hakama_ trousers. The sleeves of her garment nearly brushed the floor. Long sashes were tied into an elaborate styled bow on her back. Intricate patterns were woven into the silk material, depicting ebony corvids flying across a blood red sky. Their black wings spread wide, they glared outward with a ravenous hunger. The birds appeared so lifelike, it was as if they were flapping their wings along the flowing robes.

Neo’s eyes drifted down to the weapon hanging at Akayami’s hip. It was a long metal tube, like a baseball bat, and lined with many spiked studs. Such a weapon was called a _kanabō,_ a bludgeon designed to break shields _._ The handle was wrapped in obsidian straps and a red tassel hung proudly from the pommel.

Her face was hidden by the conical straw hat sitting upon her crown. Tiny bells hung from strings along the wide brim of the hat.

Akayami bowed her head. The bells tinkled.

_Ring-a-ling._

“I apologize for arriving so late. The mission that I had accepted prior took longer to complete than I had estimated.”

Cinder’s eyes narrowed. “You did not mention being on a mission when we last spoke.”

“That is because I wasn’t on a mission then. I took the mission while traveling to Vale. A mere side-mission, if you will.”

“That _mere_ side-mission very nearly cost you the position.”

“I have arrived late, but not too late. I am here now, so no harm has been done.”

“That is not for you to decide. I was made to work around your absence. That was time wasted because of your tardiness. I do not appreciate having my time wasted. Do I make myself clear?”

The words were spoken in calm voices. But their Auras betrayed the true struggle. Cinder’s scalding Aura waged war against Akayami’s chilling Aura. Every time one Aura increased, the other rose by a higher measure. Neither woman backed down. An invisible, yet palpable, thunderstorm swelled in strength between them.

Ube whispered, “Should we be this close to them? I feel like we’re gonna see a fight break out. Girls?”

Glancing to either side, she discovered that Liquorice and Neo had already abandoned their positions and retreated a safe distance back. The woman ‘eeped’ and ran backwards to join them.

For the longest moment, Cinder and Akayami stood in silence.

Finally,

“Crystal,” Akayami answered. Her Aura vanished all at once, allowing Cinder’s to reign supreme.

“Good. Don’t let it happen again.”

Akayami reached up with a pale white hand and pinched the rim of her hat _._ She lifted it off her head and casually flung it to the side.

_Ring-a-ling._

Crimson, slanted eyes peered out from beneath low-cut bangs. Her hair was jet-black, rippling like a smooth fountain of oil in the light. Not a single strand was out of place. By her face, Neo estimated that Akayami was no younger than Cinder.

“Enough time has been spent on loitering already,” said Cinder. “Team LUNA will board the Strigiformes and leave immediately. Your teammates will brief you on the mission _en route.”_

At the word ‘teammates’, a foul expression passed over Akayami’s face. The woman turned her head and laid eyes on the other three members for the first time. If anything, her discontentment only became more apparent. She made no effort to disguise her disdain. Akayami looked at Team LUN just the same as one would look at a writhing pile of maggots.

“Actually,” she said, “I have a better idea that I would like for you to consider.”

Everyone in the hangar froze in place. Not a single jaw remained closed.

Neo couldn’t even believe her ears.

_Did that woman really just disregard a direct order, and then say that she has a_ better _idea?_

“Who does this bitch think she is?” Liquorice said in a low whisper.

Judging from the expression on her face, a similar sentiment was coursing through Cinder’s mind. The Queen said nothing.

Apparently, Akayami took this as an invitation to continue with her suggestion.

“If you want for this mission to be completed to perfection, then my proposal is that you let me handle it by myself.”

“Excuse me?” Liquorice said, echoing the thoughts of her teammates.

“I am enough. Simply dismiss those _amateurs,”_ Akayami fired a disdainful glance at LUN, “and add their wages to my salary.”

Angry was nowhere nearly strong enough to describe Neo. White eyes converted to hot pink. Her jawline throbbed as she ground her tiny teeth together. She squeezed her weapon hard as to keep her hands from shaking. The urge to draw Miss Behave was becoming overwhelming.

For her part, Ube’s demeanor had altered dramatically. Just like in _Pegai Cuisine_ , her personality shifted from giggling girl to something else entirely. Her face was stone hard as she glared at Akayami.

_“Excuse me?”_ Liquorice shouted.

Akayami turned to face her and said, “If you have anything to say, then do so.”

“That’s what I was about to say to you!” Liquorice stabbed a finger at Akayami. “If you have anything to say about us, then say it to our faces!”

Without hesitation, the black-haired woman strode straight up to Team LUN.

“Very well then, let me just say this.” Crimson eyes met each of the other girls in succession. “I am stronger than all three of you. _Combined._ Even if you were to fight me at once, I would hardly even need to exert myself to defeat you. Weaklings, such as yourselves, should stick to fighting the creatures of Grimm.”

The stark audacity of her statement knocked the wind out of Liquorice’s sails. She could only stand in place, red in the face.

_Alright, that’s it. My turn now._

Neo reached above her crown and snapped her fingers, drawing Akayami’s attention.

“I know what you are.” Neo’s voice remained perfectly calm, despite the fury that raged inside. “You are the kind of person who thinks that everything in this world was put in place for you and you alone. You think you know better than anyone else. You think that, just because you may be stronger than an average Hunter, that you must be the toughest termagant to walk Remnant.”

Silence.

“Well, I have met a great deal many people like you,” she flipped her multicolored hair back dismissively, “and without fail, each one of you has been full of nothing more than hot air. The loudest dogs are always the smallest.”

The tall woman chuckled. “That’s quite a humorous statement, coming from someone of _your_ stature.”

“Oh no, you do _not_ get to insult Neo!” Ube snarled. She took a step toward Akayami.

Neo lifted her hand and blocked Ube’s forward progression. Without breaking eye-contact with Akayami, she said smoothly.

“I may be short, but you’re _still beneath me.”_

With that, the petite assassin raised both palms to the ceiling. Liquorice and Ube clapped her hands simultaneously. All three crossed their arms and glared.

Akayami’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

Her Aura slammed into the trio like a tidal wave of ice-water.

Miss Behave emerged from her sheath with lightning speed Neo fell back into a fighting stance. Miss Fortune twirled before her like a shield. Liquorice flicked her wrists and deployed her daggers. _Ch-ch-ch-chink!_ Ube reached into a pocket and produced a handful of red orbs, each the size of a ball bearing. Her feet spread in a wide stance as she hefted Spoonapult over her shoulder.

Akayami watched each of the girls prepare for combat, eyes half closed. Then, at a leisurely pace, she reached across her waist and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the _kanabō_.

A painful sound, like nails on a chalkboard, shattered the air.

Neo had been wrong before. The bludgeon _was not_ her weapon. It was merely the sheath.

Twin parallel blades slid free from the sheath with an earsplitting screech. Each was a _tsurugi_ , a double-edged straight sword. Clockwork mechanisms were built into the hilt guard. The blades themselves were segmented, obviously meant to change shape in some way.

Three against one. By all means, this should be an easy fight. Yet, cold sweat trickled down Neo’s neck. _What is with this Aura? It’s less of an ambient feeling and more like a physical substance! I’ve only met two people who had this much raw power. One is Cinder. The other was the Grimm Reaper._

Growing doubts gnawed away at Neo’s optimism. _She is highly confident. That kind of self-assurance is either born from sheer stupidity… or from experience. Would Cinder hire anyone who hadn’t proven their worth?_

“Anyone who wishes to taste the steel of Ju-On,” Akayami said, “only has to take a step forward.”

She rotated her wrist swiftly. The twin razor edges _hissed_ as they parted the air.

Nobody moved.

An ugly sneer formed on her lips.

“Perhaps you aren’t as stupid as I had previously assumed. Only the truly idiotic would step freely to their own death. If you have come to the conclusion that you were wrong to oppose me, then simply kneel down and apologize.”

“Strange,” said Cinder from directly behind her. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Crimson eyes widened. She whirled to face the Queen. Too late.

Cinder’s heel struck the back of Akayami’s left leg, forcing her down on one knee. At the same time, she grasped the hair on the back of Akayami’s head and pushed down, steadily overpowering her. The swordswoman swung Ju-On backwards. The blades moved too fast for the eye to follow. Cinder’s Aura flared, catching her arm before she could complete her attack. Orange pulsating energy engulfed Akayami’s wrist. Golden eyes shone like molten coins. Akayami’s face contorted with pain as her wrist twisted against her will. Neo could hear the carpal bones popping. Her fingers flew open. Ju-On clattered to the floor.

“Did Cinder just disarm Akayami with just her Aura?” asked Ube.

Liquorice said, “Not even I knew Aura could do that.”

“I’m speaking from experience when I say,” Neo grimaced at the memory, “do _not_ piss off Cinder.”

Akayami’s skull struck the floor. Cinder brought her foot down, pinning her head underneath her toes. The sharp point of Cinder’s heel pressed against Akayami’s neck, directly on the jugular vein. The stiletto was applied with precisely enough pressure to dimple her supple skin but not puncture. Not yet. Neo knew for a fact that those slippers were made from Glass Dust. It didn’t matter how much Aura that Akayami possessed. If Cinder twisted that foot in the slightest way, it would be the end of her life.

The prostrated Huntress ceased struggling and became very, very still.

Cinder exhaled slowly. The glow in her eyes dimmed until they were merely smoldering embers.

“Before I started putting my plans into motion, I spent a lot of time studying the history of past revolutions,” she said. “I am certainly not the first to attempt to overthrow the established order of the world. There have been many before me. But none of them were effective. So, if I ever wanted a chance at succeeding where they failed, I knew that I had to learn from their mistakes.”

Her words carried easily throughout the hangar. Neo could feel herself being drawn in by the power of her voice.

“I have read horror stories of malicious bosses who would kill their subordinates for reasons as little as bringing them bad news. It has always perplexed me why anyone would shoot the messenger. This accomplishes nothing but encourages all future messengers to lie to save their own skin.”

She shook her head contemptuously.

“After construing these tales, I came to the conclusion that being unnecessarily cruel to your underlings only ensures your own destruction. And so, I have set out to avoid all these basic errors of judgement. I never make any of my subordinates feel like they should be afraid to give me bad news. I am forgiving of minor mistakes, so long as they are reported immediately and not concealed. I do not dole out harsh punishments except for major transgressions. I prefer to lead with charisma, and not with force. I pride myself on my munificence.”

Golden eyes lowered to Akayami, whose head was still trapped beneath her heel.

“You, however, have managed to burn through _all_ of my goodwill upon our very first meeting. My pride is in shambles. I have you to blame for it. You have shown me nothing but disrespect. Taking a side-mission was disrespectful. Arguing against me was disrespectful. Directly challenging my orders was disrespectful. Brandishing your weapon to my subordinates was disrespectful. That’s quite a number of transgressions in such a short span of time.”

Cinder’s stiletto sank into Akayami’s throat by millimeters. Bright red blood trickled down the slope of her neck.

“So, I am left with a quandary. How should I deal with you? Would I be making the same mistakes of old by killing you? Or would keeping you alive be a wholly new mistake?”

She fell into quiet meditation. Her chin dropped to her chest. Her eyes closed.

Neo crossed her fingers and prayed to whatever benevolent god that may be listening.

The Queen lifted her crown and opened her eyes.

“For now, I have decided to spare you.”

Clearly, there was no such thing as a benevolent god.

“However, this mission will be where you prove your worth to me. Your life is dependent on the success of this mission. You like to boast about your strength? Well then, demonstrate how strong you are on the battlefield.”

Leaning closer, Cinder stared down into Akayami’s eyes.

“Here is the part where you thank me for my mercy.”

Silence.

“Testing my patience has proven to be an unrewarding endeavor. Testing it twice will provide no better results.”

Finally, Akayami spoke aloud.

“I—I thank you for your generosity.”

Every word sounded like it was being dragged out of her throat with barbed wire.

“Very well then. Board the transport and the mission will begin.”

Cinder removed her stiletto and turned away. Akayami wasted no time rising to her feet. She picked up Ju-On off the floor. Crimson eyes locked on the symbol on Cinder’s back. Her grip on the sword tightened. Then she returned her weapon back to its sheath.

“Well damn,” Liquorice said. “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck with the bitch.”

“At least until Cinder gets fed up and kills her,” Neo said.

Ube added, “Maybe if we’re lucky, Cinder will add _her_ salary to ours?”

The threesome walked to the awaiting Strigiformes. Akayami came up from behind and shouldered past Liquorice and Ube. Neo skipped to the side, dodging the swordswoman. Without speaking a word, Akayami took a seat in the far corner of the aircraft and stared directly at the inner wall in front of her. The heat in her eyes contrasted sharply with the chill of her Aura.

“Gee whiz,” Ube said. “What a gosh darn cunt.”

Once they were all aboard, and sitting on opposite corners of Akayami, a female’s voice came over the intercom.

“Hello, I am the AI construct for the Strigiformes.”

“Hi Striggy, you have a pretty voice!” said Ube. She was quickly shushed by Liquorice.

“I will be taking off shortly, so please remain seated,” the AI continued. “Once I’m outside the city limits, I will accelerate to Mach 3 speeds. Estimated time to arrival is three hours and sixteen minutes. Weather reports in mission area indicate clear skies and a temperature of twenty-one degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Oh phooey, I should’ve packed my mittens.”

“We’re going to Atlas, obviously it’s going to be really freaking cold!”

A whisper-quiet _hum_ filled the vessel. Neo’s gut lurched as the Strigiformes took off vertically.

The AI spoke again, “Now activating cloaking system.”

“Cloaking system?” Ube questioned. “Can Striggy go invisible?”

“Of course the ship can go invisible!” Liquorice said with an exasperated tone, “What kind of stealth ship can’t go invisible? If anyone can see us just by looking up, then there’s nothing stealthy about it.”

Safety buckles automatically unfolded from the seats and crisscrossed over Neo’s chest, holding her fast against the chair. She could feel the Strigiformes moving forward.

“Oh! Oh! I want to see outside! Hey Striggy, can you open a window?”

“There are no windows in the fuselage,” the AI informed her. “However, I can stream a video feed from external cameras for you to see.”

“Do that, pretty please.”

Holographic imagers projected a large screen in the middle of the hold. They watched as the city of Vale became smaller and smaller before it finally disappeared from view.

Neo tore her gaze away from the hologram and scrutinized Akayami.

The black-haired swordswoman still stared at the same point, as if she were attempting to burn a hole in the wall by sheer willpower. She had not yet deigned to even glance at the other passengers. Her lips were pursed and her brow knotted. Slender fingers fidgeted with the tassel on her weapon’s hilt. There was no mistaking the humiliation burning in those crimson eyes.

Anger gnawed at Neo’s nerves. _This mission will determine whether Roman lives or dies. If Akayami refuses to cooperate and ruins the mission, then Cinder won’t have to bother killing her._

She gripped Miss Fortune and squeezed until her knuckles bleached.

_I’ll do it myself!_


	33. Yellow Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late night in Team Evil's dorm.

Mercury woke up with a snort. Alert in an instant, he threw his leg stumps over the bed. His prosthetics stood beside the bed, waiting precisely where he left them every night. With precision born from years of practice, the silver-haired butcher plugged his stumps into the sockets. The machinery initiated instantaneously. Titanium clamps fastened to his stumps. Mechanical apparatuses were grafted directly to his femur, muscles, and nerves. These apparatuses were the interface structures for his artificial legs. Wired connections inserted into the interface structures, linking his brain to his legs.

A high pitch whine filled the air as electrified needles drilled into his legs. A normal man would have cried out. Mercury Black was no normal man. This pain was just another part of his every day morning ritual. A better wake-up than any brand of coffee. The entire activation process was completed before Mercury had even risen off his bed.

Hairs on the back of his neck stood. _Something_ had woken him up.

Charcoal black eyes swept through his bedroom, searching for anything out of place. A quick glance out the window revealed that it was still nighttime.

His senses stretched to their limits. A sound. Water sprinkling, coming from nearby. Someone was in the shower. It could be that Emerald had decided to take a nocturnal bath.

Mercury gripped the doorknob and pulled his bedroom door open. He entered the lounge room. Everything was completely shrouded in shadows. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Nothing had been disturbed since he had gone to bed. Mostly empty soda cans were still strewn along the coffee table. Half-eaten junk food remained resting on the couch. Emerald’s weapon cleaning kit hadn’t been put away either.

Keeping his back to the wall, he crept around the perimeter of the lounge room, maintaining maximum sightlines at all times. Force of habit. Growing up around criminal elements imparted Mercury with a permanent thing about ambushes.

As he passed into the kitchen, sensors on the bottom of his artificial feet relayed the sensation of cold floor tiles. His eyes lingered on the table. The object sitting on top of its surface had not been there before.

It was a bouquet of yellow flowers, tied together with a crimson ribbon.

For a full second, he simply stood on the threshold between the kitchen and the lounge. His mind processed the new data, turning it over and over like a puzzle cube. Unable to come to a logical conclusion, Mercury approached the mysterious bouquet.

His hand reached out and picked up the flowers.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

The flowers did not reply.

Mercury brought the flowers to his face and drew in their sweet aroma.

“You smell nice, but not as nice as good leather boots.”

_Click._

The kitchen lights blinked on.

“Merc? What’re you doing?”

Startled, Mercury spun around and brandished the flowers like a knife. Emerald stood behind him in mint-green sleepwear, one hand on the light switch, one hand on her hip. Confusion and lassitude were apparent on her face.

Cherry red eyes settled on the flowers held toward her.

Her expression transformed from puzzlement to amazement. She plucked the offered bouquet from Mercury’s grasp. Emerald inhaled their springtime fragrance. She sighed dreamily.

Mercury’s eyes narrowed, then widened as realization dawned on him.

“No, wait,” he said. “It’s not what you think! I wasn’t giving those flowers to you—”

“Oh, Mercury,” she breathed with a falsetto tone of voice. She placed a hand over her heart.  “I have no words!”

“Hold on—”

“Because the sound of vomit jettisoning from my mouth isn’t _technically a word!”_ Emerald shouted. She slapped the bouquet against his chest. Mercury caught the flowers before they hit the floor.

“Ow! Now, wait just a second!”

“Out of all the stupid bullshit that I put up with around you—”

“I wasn’t giving these flowers to you!”

“—this one really steals the cake! I’ve had it up to here with your chauvinistic flirting—”

“These flowers aren’t even mine!”

“—and your disgusting habits—”

“Hold up, where’s this coming from?”

“—littering the place with pop cans—”

“Like that’s not half your mess too!”

“—and leaving your smelly underwear on the floor—”

“Okay, I deserve that.”

“—and bitching and whining when it comes your turn to do the chores—”

“You’ve been keeping this stuff bottled up for a _long_ time—”

“—you know how much Cinder hates uncleanliness—”

“Cinder is the worst neat freak I have ever—”

“Am I interrupting something?”

Emerald and Mercury flew apart.

Cinder eyed the two of them. She stood before them, wearing nothing but a small bath towel to preserve her modesty. The gold in her irises shimmered. Wisps of steam rose from the pyromancer’s wet hair. Her bare legs glistened in the florescent light. The heat in the room increased to uncomfortable levels as Emerald and Mercury stared at their boss’s voluptuous body.

A second passed before either found their voice.

“Uh—Cinder!” Emerald stammered while trying to keep her gaze at face-level. “We were just—I didn’t know you were back!”

Cinder turned her head and redirected her smoldering glare at the mess in the lounge. She returned to Emerald.

“That much is obvious.”

Emerald’s chin fell to her chest.

“Weren’t you supposed to be on a mission to Atlas?” Mercury asked the ceiling.

“Change of plans. The last member of Team LUNA, Akayami, arrived minutes before departure.”

“Talk about cutting it close. What’s she like, aside from not very punctual?”

Cinder frowned. “Trouble. Whether she’s worth it has yet to be seen. I have already had to discipline her on the subject of respect.”

“Yeesh, you’d think that the money you’re offering would be enough to make everyone fall in line.”

The Queen shook her crown. “Liquorice and Ube’s loyalty were bought, but not everyone is motivated by greed or gluttony. Some people require more. Neo, for instance, will only remain loyal if I can return Roman to her safely.”

Emerald lifted her eyes off the floor. “What will happen if you can’t? Not—not that I doubt your ability, but hypothetically speaking, if Roman dies then—”

“If Roman dies, then Neo will most likely move to betray me. I will have to kill her before she does.”

Her cool tone of voice sent chills down Emerald’s spine.

The last droplets of moisture evaporated off of Cinder’s body. She pivoted on her heels and sauntered across the kitchen, hips swaying back and forth. Her subordinates watched the bottom of the bath towel as it fluttered loosely, teasing more naked skin than before. Without tearing her eyes away, Emerald jabbed her elbow in Mercury’s ribs.

Cinder approached a pitch black vase that was waiting on the countertop. She picked up the obsidian urn and let it drop from her fingers. It shattered on impact. Multiple colors of Dust, black and red and gold, spread along the floor. Cinder lifted one foot and stepped on the pile of Dust.

Orange glyphs ignited in the air around Cinder. The Dust shifted at an unheard command, then began to flow. Like a den of serpents, ropes of Dust wound up Cinder’s bare legs and slithered beneath the bath towel.

She shrugged her shoulders and let the towel fall.

Mercury started. Emerald hissed in a sharp breath.

Beneath the towel, the Dust had knitted together to form most of Cinder’s crimson dress. The remaining Dust swept down her arms, weaving the sleeves. Gold Dust coiled along the length of her garb and shaped themselves into glyphic symbols. The obsidian fragments of the vase dissolved into pitch-black sand. The sand sheathed Cinder’s bare feet and formed her signature Glass Dust slippers.

_Clink._

Cinder smirked at the thwarted expression on her subordinates’ faces.

“You do that on purpose,” Mercury grumbled.

“You make it so much fun.”

* * *

 

Emerald held her tongue. Countless different thoughts jumbled in her mind. What quickly replaced disappointment was astonishment. Cinder had just demonstrated Dustcraft on a level so far above anything Emerald had seen before. Before meeting Cinder, Emerald had believed that Dust could only come in two forms: sand and crystal. But, one night, the Queen had opened her eyes to the unlimited possibilities that Dust offered.

That night, years ago, when it was just the two of them together.

_“Dust can’t do all that, can it?”_

_Cinder sat in an open window, one leg hanging over the ledge. Her eyes shone like lanterns as she watched the city lights blinking out, one by one. The stars sparkled around her head like a crown fit for a goddess. She bathed in the light of the silver moon, the picture of divine beauty. When Cinder turned her radiant gaze to respond, a pleasant ache throbbed in Emerald’s chest._

_“Oh, Emerald, free your mind. Dust has infinite untapped potential. It can be whatever you want it to be. Whether it be power, weapons, clothing… or perhaps even living things…”_

_“I don’t understand the things you’re saying.”_

_She threw her head back and laughed. The sound was hauntingly sublime, like wind passing through glass chimes. Her soothing voice washed over Emerald, purging poisonous doubts like purifying springwater. “You’re not meant to understand. You’re only meant to obey.”_

_“How do you know the things that you know?”_

_“History is a treasure trove of secrets, just waiting to be discovered. Knowledge of the ancient past can grant… alarming insight of our future.”_

Even to this day, the enigma that was Cinder Fall still eluded her. Every time Emerald thought that she was coming close to comprehending the inner workings of Cinder’s mind, Cinder would do something completely unexpected. Even directly infiltrating Beacon Academy had come as an unbelievable shock to Emerald. The difference between genius and madness is perspective.

Sudden movement jolted Emerald out of her reverie. Cinder approached Mercury and snatched the bouquet of yellow flowers out of his hands.

“I certainly hope that you haven’t damaged my gift. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was to find a flower shop that was open past midnight.”

Emerald asked, “Those are _your_ flowers?”

“Yes.”

“They’re a gift? For who, and why?”

Cinder’s eyes shifted away, staring at nothing. She spoke softly, “These flowers are for someone that I haven’t seen in a very, very long time. Someone that I owe a life debt to.”

Every nerve ending in Emerald’s body jolted as though she had been struck by lightning. She sucked in her breath and held it. Cinder had _never_ divulged anything about her past before. Something was about to be revealed, something tremendous.

“I have been wishing dearly to make this trip, to see this person again. But until now, I have been too busy. I have approximately six hours before Team LUNA returns from their mission. This means that I finally have the time to take a short trip out of the city of Vale.”

“Out of Vale?” Mercury said. “Is this really the best use of your time?”

Molten gold burned, demanding deference.

“I won’t have another opportunity to make this trip, especially not after Phase Three begins. It is now or never. This is too important to put off any longer. I must—”

Cinder faltered. The fire faded from her eyes.

“I must reaffirm some things.”

Expression hardening, Cinder tightened her grip on the bouquet of flowers and marched toward the front door. Just before exiting, she called back.

“Remember to tell Beacon’s teachers that I have come down with the twenty-four-hour stomach flu. That will excuse my absence for the remainder of the school day. I hardly think they will notice, considering the sheer amount of other foreign students, but it doesn’t hurt to have an excuse prepared.”

With that, she departed.

Mercury stared blankly for several seconds.

“What the hell is going through our boss’s head?” he asked.

“Daffodils,” Emerald answered.

“What?”

“Those yellow flowers were daffodils.”

“And that means something, why?”

Sighing deeply, Emerald explained. “Because all flowers have a meaning. Red roses symbolize love, white roses symbolize innocence and purity, and pink roses symbolize happiness and appreciation. Flowers have meaning.”

“Okay, so what do daffodils symbolize?”

“Daffodils have a very complex language that changes depending on the context. They are a springtime flower, so they often symbolize rebirth or new beginnings. In some regions, daffodils symbolize memories and forgiveness. But,” she placed her hand on her chin, “their botanic name is _narcissus_ , and that grants daffodils a completely different meaning.”

Mercury blinked. “What’s their other meaning?”

“Female ambition.”


	34. Gravity Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team LUNA begins their mission.

The Strigiformes’ engines _thrummed_ softly, permeating its passenger hold like white noise.

Neo lifted her eyes from the cards in her hand. White and brown shifted around. Finally, she reached to her side and pushed her entire stack of chips to the middle of the circle.

“All in,” she said, head held high.

A sharp gasp rose from Ube. Her hands trembled. She dropped her cards on the floor and hung her head like a wilted flower.

“I fold.”

Smirking, Neo turned her gaze to her final opponent.

Liquorice stroked her chin thoughtfully. The expression on her face was unreadable. Her hand picked up a stack of chips, then let them fall back in place, one-by-one.

_Clickity-clickity-clickity_

Her lips curved into a sneer as she moved her entire stack of chips to meet Neo’s.

“I call your bluff. Show your cards.”

Neo slapped her cards on the floor. Among them were one six, and two nines. “Ménage trois. Beat that, spider.”

Liquorice’s smile only grew, bearing fanged canines. “Nice hand, but I’m afraid you’ve played your last, half-pint.”

She reversed her cards. A one, a one, a two, a three, a five, and an eight. “Fibonacci.”

Neo’s jaw dropped. She could only stare as the spider stole all of the spoils into her sinister clutches. She thrust a finger at Liquorice. “You’re using your extrasensory vision to see which cards are coming up next, aren’t you!”

“Excuse me? _I’m_ the cheater here?” Liquorice grabbed Neo’s elbow and gave it a shake. Playing cards slipped out of Neo’s sleeve and landed on the floor. “Little miss _cards up her sleeves!”_

Neo leaped to her feet. “My cheating takes practice to master! You were just born with built-in cheating devices!”

Ube looked between her two bickering teammates. “So, wait, am I the only one who wasn’t cheating?”

“Now entering mission zone.”

Strigiformes’ voice broke the tension in the passenger hold.

“About damn time!” Liquorice said as she stood up.

Neo spared a glance over her shoulder at the fourth team member. Akayami had not moved from her spot since departure. Her black crown was bowed, crimson eyes closed. Not a word had left her mouth in three hours. She could have been asleep, if not for the furrow of her brow.

“We are currently cruising over the mission area at approximately two kilometers above sea level. All stealth functions are online. We are undetected.”

“Good job, Striggy,” said Ube.

A holographic image appeared in the center of the hold, presenting the entire mission area. The Atlesian Research and Development complex was nestled within the root of the Hesperides Mountains. The complex was crescent shaped, with each wing dedicated to another field of study. According to Cinder’s information, their target was located deep within the facility, underneath the mountain. Due to the rocky outcroppings that surrounded the compound, attacking from the ground would be impossible.

Team LUN gathered around the hologram. Akayami remained seated. She opened her eyes and looked at the hologram.

“Okay bitches, listen up! Your dear team leader is speaking!”

Neo rolled her eyes as Liquorice continued.

“We’re gonna airdrop right into enemy territory. Speed is the name of the game here. We’re gonna hit them hard and hit them fast.” Liquorice punched her open hand. “That means no stopping to fight anyone unless they endanger the package! So long as nobody screws up, we’ll extract with Project NV within thirty minutes.”

She stabbed a finger at the outer perimeter of the complex. The holograph zoomed in, depicting high cliffs circling the mission area.

“First up, Ube, you’re gonna land here. Set up shop wherever gives you the best view of the compound. Your first target is the long-ranged communication’s tower. Once that’s been bombed, that’ll be our cue to start. We won’t airdrop until you’ve taken out that tower.”

Ube’s hand shot straight up. “Excuse me! I’ve got a question!”

Pinching her brow, Liquorice said with an exasperated tone, “This isn’t a classroom. You don’t need to raise your hand.”

“What’s it look like?” Ube asked.

“It’s this tall spinning bowl right here.” She pointed at the hologram. Another image popped up, giving a 3D image of the tower. “Don’t forget to target _this tower first!”_

“Okey-dokey!”

“Destroying that will cut communications from the rest of Atlas, delaying reinforcements. Next, while we drop in, blow the hell out of their AA batteries.”

Ube’s expression screwed up in confusion. “Won’t they just get more from the store, then?”

“What? No! I don’t mean _those_ kind of AA batteries! AA stands for anti-air! I mean anti-air weapons! Like missile pods and laser cannons! We need to punch a hole in their defenses or we’ll never be able to extract safely!”

“O-o-o-oh! Now I get it!” She chopped her forehead with an overenthusiastic salute.

Massaging her temples, Liquorice resumed speaking.

“Alright, _my_ role in the mission is sabotage. There’s a specific person that I need to eliminate.”

She brought up a profile with attached documents. An image appeared, depicting the wrinkled face of an old man with disheveled white hair. His left eye glowed red, an artificial prosthetic.

“My target is this man, one Doctor Merlot. He’s a wanted criminal from the Kingdom of Vale, but Atlas is giving him sanctuary. Atlas likes weapons. Old bastard likes making weapons. Match made in heaven.” Her shoulders shrugged. “Anyways, this man is the Head Scientist of the whole facility, as well as the sole creator of Project NV. This makes him a loose end, even if he’s not aware of that himself. Cinder doesn’t want him to be able to create anything that could counter Project NV after we’ve stolen it. She really thinks of everything.”

She spoke to Neo.

“Half-pint has the most important part.”

The holographic representation expanded, revealing the underground laboratories. Winding corridors and elevator shafts connected each section of the facility. It looked like an iceberg, with the vast bulk of its mass hidden beneath the surface. Neo leaned closer, inspecting the hologram intently.

“You need to infiltrate the base and extract the package. With your illusions, you stand the best chance of getting around unnoticed. It’ll be easier since everyone will be distracted by Ube’s bombs. You’ll get to sneak around like a bug. A very short, four-foot-ten-while-wearing-heels bug.”

Pink and brown glowered. Sextuple eyes twinkled mischievously.

“On your scroll is a map of the facility. It should guide you straight to Project NV’s location, here.”

A bright red cross appeared, marking a department with the label _Project Development Labs._

“You aren’t going alone. Making sure you get to the package location is Akayami’s job.”

Turning her head, the spider called back, “Did you catch that, Miss Tall Dark and Bitchy?”

Akayami abruptly strode through the hologram.. She stopped in front of the exit hatch and laid her hand on a lever switch.

“Wait, hold up! What’re you do—” Liquorice began.

“I have a better plan,” said Akayami. She threw the switch.

Strigiformes announced, “Opening bay door.”

The loading ramp dropped open. Howling winds swept through the hold, sucking playing cards out through the door. The frozen air pierced Neo’s skin like a steel knife. Her breath was stolen by the cold snap.

Liquorice hollered at the top of her lungs. “The hell are you doing? Close the damn door before they detect our heat signature!”

Akayami approached the lip of the ramp, heedless of the impending drop. Black hair whipping in the wind, she glanced back at her teammates. Cold determination burned in her crimson eyes.

“Here’s the new plan. I will drop in alone and complete this mission by myself. If you ask politely, I may grant you some credit.” She returned her attention to the mountainous area far below.

Liquorice’s eyes widened. “Hoe, don’t do it.”

Akayami stepped over the edge, dropping from sight.

“Oh my god.”

Nobody moved.

Then the yelling commenced.

“Did that bitch just do that?” Liquorice screamed.

“Yes, that bitch just did that!” Neo bellowed.  

“Shit!” Liquorice furiously scoured her nails through her red hair.

She sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, okay, okay! We still can do this, we just gotta double-time it!” Turning turned to Neo. “Jump down after Akayami and stop her! I don’t care how you do it! Hug her legs, hump her legs, doesn’t matter! Just get down there!”

Neo grabbed Miss Fortune and Miss Behave. Then she sprinted to the ramp and threw herself into the open air. The hatch closed behind her and the Strigiformes disappeared entirely from view.

Arctic wind whipped in her face as Neo plummeted straight down. The sound of her jacket flapping wildly filled her ears. She forced her eyes to open and scoured the vast void. _There._ A red dot far below. It could only be Akayami. The color of her dress contrasted sharply with the darkened terrain beneath. Tucking her limbs in tight to minimize drag, Neo began to accelerate toward her target like an arrowhead.

As she drew closer, Neo could see that Akayami had spread her body out to stabilize her descent. The long sleeves of her dress flared like parachutes, reducing her speed.

“Akayami!” Neo screamed at the top of her lungs.

The black-haired woman twisted her neck and looked up at Neo. A crimson eye regarded her briefly, then turned back to the approaching surface. Akayami angled her body down and brought her limbs together, quickening her plunge.

Both women raced to the ground at breakneck speeds. Neo could see ant-sized figures below. Two soldiers, guarding a door leading into the complex. If they looked up, they might see her.

Swearing under her breath, Neo flipped right-side up. She gripped Miss Fortune’s handle and popped the parasol wide open. Miss Fortune caught the air and brought Neo’s descent to an abrupt halt. She grunted with exertion. Her stomach dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of her left ankle.

Akayami spread her arms and veered off in the direction of the mountain wall. She drew her sword and plunged it into the stone cliff. Sparks jettisoned as _Ju-On_ carved a winding path down the crag. Earsplitting grinding heralded her descent. The guards below snapped their rifles in the direction of the noise. Akayami never gave them the opportunity to fire.

She fell atop them, parallel blades flashing. Blood splattered. Akayami fell to a kneeling position, sheathing _Ju-On_ in the same motion. Both Atlesian soldiers toppled over, dead before they even reached the ground. She rose to her feet, glanced up at the hovering Neo, then ran through the door.

Neo whipped out her scroll and speed-dialed Liquorice. “I have bad news.”

“Don’t tell me that Akayami got away from you?”

“Fine, I also won’t tell you that she’s already killed multiple guards and has headed inside.”

“What happened to the leg humping strategy?”

“She had too much of a head start. Tell Ube to take out that comms tower ASAP!”

She slipped the scroll back in her pocket and shut Miss Fortune. She dropped the remaining distance and landed on the ground, knees pistoning to her chest. Then she leaped through the door and into the chase.

* * *

Liquorice closed her scroll and turned her head toward her partner.

“Alright, Ube, it’s your turn to drop.”

Standing on Strigiformes’ ramp, Ube stared over the edge. Chocolate brown eyes widened to the size of saucer plates. She gripped Spoonapult tightly. Her voice quavered slightly.

“Umm… we’re really high up and the ground is really far down. Do we have any parachutes?”

Strigiformes said, “There are drop kits to your right.”

A panel slid back into the wall, displaying a row of backpack parachutes.

“Oh! Thanks, Striggy!” Ube reached for a pack.

“No time!” Liquorice’s foot struck Ube’s rear end, sending her toppling into the open air. Screams faded as they fell away. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted, “Land using your Semblance!”

The ramp raised until it closed. Fingers rubbed her temples in tight circles. “Goddess, save me from these fucking stupid humans...”

Her red crown shook back and forth. “Strigiformes, bring me to drop-point three. I can’t be late for my appointment with the good doctor.”

* * *

High-heeled boots pounded the floor as Neo dashed through the corridors of the facility. Every surface was sterile white, making the red trail of blood very easy to follow. She ran as fast as she could. Left. Right. Right. Around every corner was another butchered body left in Akayami’s wake. As much as Neo hated her, she had to admit one thing.

Akayami worked _fast._

Something caught her eye. She stopped in her tracks. Another guard, lying motionless on his stomach, throat cut. Two parallel slash marks. Red bubbles leaked from his neck. Still breathing. Still alive, but dying. There was something on his back. She kneeled and inspected the item of interest.

It was a paper tag, rectangular and about the size of Neo’s hand. There were unfamiliar symbols written vertically on the paper, like writing from a dead language. _What was it doing here? Did it belong to Akayami?_

She reached for the paper tag. Her finger brushed against it. Neo’s head snapped back, eyes fluttering shut. The world spun like a top. Akayami’s voice filled her head and said one thing.

_“Sleep.”_

Neo snatched her hand back before her body could obey the powerful command. She fell back on her rear, vision swimming. Coherent thoughts escaped her grasp. Drowsiness clouded her mind. She shook her multicolored head, fighting back the urge to sleep. _What was Akayami’s Semblance?_

As she struggled to her feet, Neo noticed that the guard was no longer breathing. He had died in his sleep.

She pinched her cheek, _hard._ The flesh flushed bright red. Now fully awake, Neo leaped back into the chase. Several corridors later, a sound tickled her ear. Steel sliding through bone and sinew. It came from the next corner. The petite assassin ran around the bend.

Fresh carcasses lay across the hallway, soldiers and scientists, all slaughtered alike. More paper tags marked the bodies. Glassy eyes remained wide open, frozen in terror. Akayami stood in the center of the bloodbath, sword sheathed deep in one man’s chest. She planted her foot against the corpse’s stomach and shoved him away, ripping _Ju-On_ free with a sickening squelch.

Akayami laid crimson eyes on Neo. She flicked the blood off _Ju-On’s_ blades. Parallel blood spatters marked the wall beside her. “You should have remained on the ship.”

Gritting her teeth, Neo snapped, “Are you completely insane? You’ve endangered this mission!”

“I am making my way to the objective. You are in my way. That is not a safe place to be.” Her cool voice carried a razor steel undertone.

“We haven’t taken down the comms tower yet. They can still call for reinforcements. That was the point of waiting for the signal. We need to work as a team to finish this mission!”

da

“Team?” Akayami spat the word like a curse. “Teams are for weaklings who can’t survive on their own! The weak gather and the strong thrive alone!” She gestured toward herself. “I have never relied on anyone else before, and I certainly don’t need anyone now! The strength to endure it all by one’s self, that is what makes me superior to you!”

Heterochromatic eyes turned pink. Neo squeezed her fists until her gloves creaked.

“You and the rest of your team are _nothing_ compared to me. Mere sycophants licking the boots of your superiors. But I am destined for more. Everything that I do is leading me up the path of greatness. Your team, the White Fang, and Cinder Fall are but mere stepping stones on that path. I will rise above everyone and take my rightful place in this world. All obstacles will be destroyed!”

She aimed her sword at Neo. “So, let me reiterate for your feeble mind. You are standing in my way and that is _not_ a safe place to be.”

Miss Behave made no sound as she was drawn from her sheath. Hot blood boiled in Neo’s ears, pounding out all rational thought. This bitch was endangering the mission, _endangering Roman’s life!_ If Cinder had any complaints about returning minus one member, then Neo was ready to provide a couple choice suggestions where she could stuff them.

A smirk touched Akayami’s lips. She flicked her wrist and _Ju-On_ changed shape. The hilt cocked at a slight angle. Twin blades came together, then split apart in opposite directions, forming two arms. Steel filaments connected to the arms and drew them back. Neo could hear spring coils _creaking_ as the arms bent. Clockwork mechanisms in the handle rotated like a drum magazine. An optical lens flipped up. Akayami peered through the crosshairs with one eye.

The transformation from a sword to a crossbow took scarcely a single second.

Akayami leveled _Ju-On_ at Neo. Neo twirled Miss Fortune between her fingers. Both women began to circle each other, maintaining the same distance. Their feet trailed through pools of blood, drawing a crimson ring.

Delicate lace fluttered. Bloodied boots splish-splashed along the circumference of the ring. Brown and pink held contact with crimson. Swords shone in the florescent lighting.

Steeling herself, Neo took a step forward.

An earsplitting sound shattered the tense atmosphere. Warning lights flashed red. An alarm. _Damn!_

A voice blared over the intercom, “Full alert! Casualties have been discovered in the R&D wing! An unknown number of hostiles have breached the perimeter!”

The clamor of boots came from all sides. Neo stole a glance over her shoulder. Atlesian soldiers stormed through the end of each hallway. They leveled their guns at the Huntresses caught between them. One soldier pressed his hand against his helmet.

“Bravo squad has encountered two hostiles at my exact location! Engaging now!”

For a moment, Neo couldn’t decide which would be more dangerous. Turning her back on these soldiers, or turning her back on Akayami. The _clicking_ of safeties disengaging persuaded her to face the imminent firing squad.

Likewise, Akayami pivoted to the soldiers at her back. She raised _Ju-On_ and spoke with a commanding voice, “Blind.”

Her finger squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession. _Twang-twang-twang!_ A trio of paper tags flew at the soldiers and stuck against their silver body armor. The effect was immediate. All three soldiers dropped their rifles, their fingers scrabbling at their helmets.

“I’m blind!”

“My helm-cam isn’t working!”

“Hey, who turned out the lights?”

They fell apart, groping everything in arm’s reach. Squad mates quickly grabbed two of the blind soldiers and pulled them away.

The last one stumbled forward and landed at Akayami’s feet. Desperate, he yanked his helmets off his head. Neo could see his blinking eyes. Pure white. No pupils.

Akayami slashed through his neck in a blindingly swift stroke. _Ju-On_ parted his throat twice between its parallel blades. Blood geysered from the headless stump, painting the ceiling and walls.

Every remaining soldier opened fire. Neo hunkered behind Miss Fortune. Bullets bounced off lace. She ran at a group of four while casting invisibility around herself. She threw her parasol at the quad. They fired at Miss Fortune until it sailed past their heads, apparently missing its bearer. All four stared at the discarded sunshade in momentary confusion. That was everything Neo needed.

She leaped and wrapped her legs around the nearest soldier’s neck. Using his skull as a ball socket, she swiveled in full orbit around his body while swinging Miss Behave at the other soldiers. The thin sword found gaps in their armor. _CRACK._ Neck broken, the first soldier collapsed to the ground. He was joined by his squad mates a heartbeat later. She handsprang to her feet, picking Miss Fortune off the floor in the same graceful motion.

“Poison. Slow. Disable. Paralyze.”

Judging from the shrill screams and uncoordinated gunfire, Akayami was easily handling herself.

More soldiers ran at Neo, electrified batons in hand. She flicked the blood off Miss Behave and charged to meet them.

* * *

Ube was beside her Spoonapult 9000, already engaged in catapult mode. She stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the entire compound. Military barracks to the east and research facilities to the west. Even from this distance, she could hear the keening of sirens. She peered through her scroll, using its binocular function.

Liquorice’s voice shouted from the speakers, “Ube! Why haven’t you taken down that comms tower yet?”

“I can’t find it!” she wailed.

“What? How the hell can’t you find it? I showed you right where it was on the map!”

“I don’t see it! I can see the whole place, but not the tall spinning tower!” Ube swept her scroll from side to side, trying to locate the tower in question.

“That’s not— gimme control of your camera! Lemme see what you’re seeing!”

Her scroll beeped and the camera light began to flicker. One second later,

“That’s it, right there! It’s right there!” An orange square appeared on the screen, overlapping a tower topped with a radio dish.

“O-o-o-o-h.” Ube rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “You said that it was a tall, _spinning_ tower. That tower isn’t spinning, so I thought that it was the wrong one. Sorry, my bad!”

“Don’t say sorry, just bomb it! Use a big one!”

Reaching into one of her many pockets, Ube pulled out a spherical bomb. Upon tapping a button, the bomb began to expand until it was larger than her head. Its shell was decorated with three pink words, written in a cutesy scrawl.

_The Galaxy Buster._

She dropped it into Spoonapult’s bowl. The long arm of the catapult bowed backwards. Wood creaked in protest beneath the weight of the explosive. Ube pointed her fist straight at the comms tower, thumb pointing up. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth as she took aim. Her foot nudged Spoonapult a few centimeters to the left.

“Okey-dokey artichoke-y!” Ube sang into her scroll. “Hold onto yer butt cheeks ‘cause this is The Galaxy Buster! Bombs _away!”_

She stomped on Spoonapult’s release lever. The catapult groaned as it flung the gigantic bomb into the air. Ube watched The Galaxy Buster until it shrank into the distance. Then she picked up Spoonapult and ran back from the edge of the cliff.

* * *

 

“The Galaxy Buster?” Liquorice paled. “I know I said ‘big’, but _fuck!”_

Her long legs pumped as hard as they could, carrying her toward an entrance guarded by a pair of soldiers. Both soldiers raised their rifles at the approaching faunus.

_Thwip-thwip._

Twin streams of webbing sprayed from Liquorice’s daggers. The soldiers slammed against either side of the entrance, tangled in webs.

“Get out of my way!” the spider hollered as she ran inside the facility. Not a minute too soon.

* * *

A blinding explosion ignited against Hesperides mountains, like a newborn star. Its light eclipsed the mountains. The night sky became robin-egg blue. Miles away, thunder could be heard by every citizen in the city of Maera. Seconds later, the earth shook hard enough to topple power lines.

In the heart of the explosion, a maelstrom of alchemical ingredients and elemental Dust converged. Darkness emerged. A black hole formed and began to draw the nearby environment into the depths of its gravity well. Everything that had been blown back from the initial detonation was now being sucked back. The comms tower buckled and bent as it collapsed into the event horizon. Such calamity should have been deafening.

But there was no sound.

* * *

Neo slit another soldier’s throat wide open, bright red froth gurgled from the wound. _Click-click._ A rifle being reloaded. _Behind me_. She angled Miss Fortune over her shoulder and deployed it. A hailstorm of bullets ricocheted off the parasol. _Not a problem._ But in front of her, one more soldier pointed his weapon in her direction. _Somewhat a problem._

At that instant, the entire world flipped out of control. Every single body, living and dead, was thrown into the air and started bouncing about like ragdolls. They remained suspended as though gravity had been switched off. Red warning lights strobed at a seizure inducing rate.

Neo contorted her slim frame until her boots touched a surface—floor, wall, or ceiling, didn’t matter— and leaped off. She sailed weightlessly, ricocheting off surface after surface until she slammed bodily into one of the surviving Atlesian soldiers. Miss Behave thrust into his belly. Angled upward to pierce his heart. Dead in an instant.

She flipped over the body and braced her feet against it. The second soldier was screaming. The recoil from his assault rifle had sent him spiraling out of control. His cries sounded distorted. Underwater. She kicked off the body and flew like a missile. Her sword plunged into his breast. Blood spewed from the wound and hovered like red mist. He fell silent at last.

The final Atlesian soldier had pressed his back flat against a surface. Smart. He was well braced for the kickback of his weapon. He lined his crosshairs on Neo and squeezed the trigger. She swung her weight and maneuvered her latest kill to act as a meat shield.

Bullets tore into the body. The red mist became as thick as a nebula cloud.

Neo reached down, into her right boot. With one motion, she drew Miss Deed and threw the stiletto into the soldier’s open mouth. Six-inches of Damascus steel erupted from the base of his skull.

Gravity normalized, dropping everyone to the ground. Neo landed with style, one foot behind the other. She bent her knees in a civilized curtsy. Her slender fingers slipped into the body’s mouth, gripped Miss Deed, and wrenched it free. After wiping the blade clean on the soldier’s uniform, Neo returned her knife to her boot.

She glanced around. Every soldier was dead. Akayami was gone. Bloody footprints led away from the hallway, but also away from the mission objective. She opened her scroll.

“This is Neo checking in. Is everyone still alive?”

Passing silence gave way to a pained groan and hyperactive chatter.

“Define _alive.”_

“Yay! How did everyone like The Galaxy Buster? I used a two stage combo of Burn Dust and Gravity Dust laced with nitromethane, ammonium nitrate—”

“Holy shit, Ube, stop using big words when my head is killing me! Anyways, is the comms tower destroyed?”

“A-a-a-affirmative! That, along with the barracks too. Nobody survived that one.”

“That’s good news. Now hurry up and destroy the anti-air weapons.”

“Roger-dodger!”

Neo said, “Unfortunately, Akayami also survived and has gone on without me. She doesn’t seem to be heading for Project NV anymore.”

“What’s that bitch think she’s doing?”

“Doesn’t matter, at least she’ll lead enemies away from me. I’m heading for the Development Labs.”

“Great. Snag and bag Project NV and we can book it the buck out of here. Also, could you pick me up a bottle of aspirin?”

Neo smirked. “I’ll see what I find.”

She closed the call line, brought up the map of the facility, and started running through the halls.


End file.
